


Crack the Paragon

by ChromaticDreams



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Because of Reasons, Canon-Typical Violence, Cracked Gems, Episode: s03e24 Bismuth, Family Fluff, Gem Fusion, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Connie Maheswaran/Steven Universe, Music, Trauma, basically a whole boatload of family drama is unearthed two seasons early, will evolve into slice of life with plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2019-12-30 18:49:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 37,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18321140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChromaticDreams/pseuds/ChromaticDreams
Summary: In another world, he doesn't have his mother's sword or shield to hide behind when Bismuth lands her strike. The bubble pops.Steven falls apart.





	1. Pink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things go terribly wrong in the forge.

“So what are you gonna do, _shatter_ me?!”

Bismuth’s tone is corrosive, boiling with hurt, as sharp as the fine point that she’s forcibly pressed against the gem inlaid in her chest. Steven’s hands quiver against the cool metal casing of the breaking point. Once assured words derail and fragment in the presence of terrifying uncertainty, his mind grasping at straws for the barest glimmer of optimism. (Optimistic thought number one: While it’s absolutely the most horrifying tool of war he’s ever had the misfortune of holding, he’s at least glad this thing isn’t a thousand billion degrees like everything else in this crazy lava powered furnace.)

“Go ahead!” she continues, tears budding in her eyes, and jerks the weapon against her gem so roughly that it clinks against the hard crystal’s surface. His shoulders seize at the sound. “Just do it!”

Whatever force of fear that once tied his tongue dissipates at the first sight of her distress.

“No!” he says, surmounting the strength to rebel against her hold, to pull the razor-sharp point away from her. “Even if we don’t agree, nobody deserves this...”

In an instant, a complex series of emotions flicker across her stony features in consuming waves too rapid to identify. Confusion, maybe? A hint of relief? He dares to dream she’ll reconsider, earnestly apologize, back down and store the weapon away. Destroy it, even. They can warp to the temple together, and then everything will finally return to normal. A _new_ normal, with her a part of his Crystal Gem family! Amethyst will have a new wrestle buddy, and Pearl and Garnet will smile a little brighter alongside their old friend!

But any hope he dares cling to is quickly incinerated under the blistering anger radiating from deep within that Gem’s tear stained eyes. She yanks the breaking point from his grasp. Heart pounding in his ears, his glance desperately skates over his mom’s sword lying across the room. Too far away, _too far away_! Bismuth raises her weapon adorned arm above her head and swings.

It happens so fast there’s not even time to summon his shield. Instinctively the world around him turns to pink, but he knows his limits, knows the bubble’s protection won't be enough. Not against something like this, not at point blank. Steven grinds his molars together, slams his eyes shut. He suddenly wishes he hugged everyone goodnight before going to bed. He wishes he texted his dad.

The bubble pops.

In a heartbeat, agony tears through his nerves like nothing he’s ever experienced before, radiating from his gem all the way to the tips of his fingers and toes and drawing a hoarse scream from his lips. Something within him shatters into fragments, rips away with a force unimaginable and shoves him forcibly to the warm stone. He desperately tries to raise another bubble shield but now his body is _cold, cold, cold_ and his head feels woozy, stuffed to the brim with cotton. He catches a faint flicker of pink through the crack of his eyelids. But that solid clink against crystal, followed by that horrid, horrid sound— the unmistakable sign of a cracking gemstone— might as well have come from miles away.

* * *

When he finally opens his eyes again, he’s immediately aware of two things.

One: he’s shivering. Despite the overwhelming heat of the forge, heat he knows should be making him sweat rivers, his body convulses and his teeth chatter like he’s just come out of the snow.

Two: after her aggression he doesn’t understand why, but Bismuth is holding him. His breath hastens as he realizes this, but in his current state of disorientation he doesn’t fight it. She’s pressed him tight against her chest like he’s suddenly the most precious being in existence, her hard-light form nearly burning to the touch even though Gem bodies don’t produce heat like organic life does. Paired alongside the uncontrollable shivering, he‘s pretty sure that’s reason for concern.

“I’m so, _so_ sorry,” she cries, fat tears budding at the corners of her eyes and spilling down her cheeks. “Shards, I- I was so sure that you were somehow Rose that I almost—“ Her voice hitches, unable to complete that sentence.

A pang of... of indescribable _emptiness_ assails him then, and a glimpse at the figure standing motionless where he once stood enlightens him on concerning reality number three.

“Steven. Steven, please tell me you can still hear me? Please tell me you’re not- I didn’t mean to- for any of this to happen, I swear!”

“W-what...” His throat constricts, horror gripping his limbs as he shakily pulls up the hem of his shirt and finds nothing but smooth, blemish-less skin. “Where’s my—?” His gemstone is nowhere to be seen. Gone. Except...

His gaze drops once more on the softly glowing, pink clone of himself that’s currently staring at him with hauntingly blank irises. He doesn’t speak a word, and his expression barely shifts at all, but Steven soon finds himself understanding his other self‘s existence regardless. He... he saved him. _(_ _Them?)_ Somehow, this hard-light manifestation split himself apart to shove him away from Bismuth’s strike, sparing him from the brunt of the breaking point’s force. And yet...

Phantom pains from a gem he no longer possesses arc like lightning through his now wholly organic body. He gives a sharp whimper, his eyes growing wet. It’s almost immobilizing, reminiscent of the feeling one gets when they accidentally slam their funny bone against a counter or a door jam except it’s everywhere at once. Simultaneously, his pink double’s form glitches like a video game sprite.

_Oh. Oh, no. Surely that’s not what—_

Bismuth pulls his frail form tighter as he bursts into tears. Memories of a distant afternoon he’s tried so hard to forget slam to the forefront of his mind, leaving him helpless under their power. Amethyst, fracturing her gemstone when she fell on the hard edge of a boulder. Amethyst, her form glitching and morphing wildly, growing more and more unstable with every minute until she could barely speak or move. The bone chilling cracking noise that plays over and over in his deepest darkest nightmares, absolutely unmistakable in its horror, just like the sound of a car’s bumper crunching inwards. The same noise ringing through his ears not moments ago, the breaking point aimed straight at his gem.

“What do I do?” she asks fervently, her attention snapping back and forth between his two fractured selves, human and Gem. “How do we fix this??"

Steven can’t catch a breath through his sobs to even respond at first. He’s heaving so hard his chest aches. Tears streak lines through the dirt that’s caked on his face from their fight. As he desperately reaches out towards his double, a keening cry slips through his lips. The absence of his gemstone weighs on him as if something had reached its hand inside him and scooped it out like pumpkin guts. One moment he‘s whole, and the next... He doesn’t understand how any of this came to happen. All he knows— the unceasing mantra buzzing within his woozy cotton-filled mind— is that he needs him, has to  _reach_ him to become whole again—

_Need— I need to..._

"T-take me back," he croaks, quivering helplessly in her arms. "I- I need—"

Awareness surges into his double's otherwise blank features as he chimes in to order the other Gem. The emotionless monotone of that voice is enough to send a shudder through his bones.

"The temple. _Now."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there! I honestly don't know how long this will go on for, or in what direction. All I know is that I wanted to explore the idea that Gem/human Steven coming apart (as per Change Your Mind) is a sort of subconscious survival instinct, one which will only occur when Steven's about to suffer some pretty egregious injuries to his gemstone/body. My meta on this can be found [here,](https://novantinuum.tumblr.com/post/183314734824/su-theory-stevens-fusion-survival-tactic-in) if you're interested. 
> 
> I figure Steven's subconscious attempts at protecting himself were able to:
> 
> A) Entirely spare his organic body from harm. (All pain human Steven feels here is flat out shock from suddenly being without his gemstone- and while they're separate I imagine he still is somewhat connected, thus can sense something's off when Gem Steven is glitching.)
> 
> B) Defend against the breaking point JUST enough that it only grazed/cracked his gemstone instead of full out shattering it.
> 
> __
> 
> As clarification, since I saw this question pop up in comments, Gem Steven didn't actually reform here. They pretty much just... "unfused." 
> 
> __
> 
> As for Bismuth, we don't really get a chance to see her heel turn because Steven is blacked out for it. But the moment the split happened... and she saw human Steven spilled on the forge's floor, and Gem Steven cracked... it's alarming enough that it snaps her out of her rage and makes her realize that despite her confusions she genuinely could never shatter another Crystal Gem over this. The fact that she actually struck a blow this time is guilt inducing enough.
> 
> And then the art in this chapter is my attempt at a mock screenshot, just for fun. You can find the full size image for that [here, on my tumblr.](http://novantinuum.tumblr.com/post/183867836904/)


	2. Knowing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everyone's panicking, and honestly Steven can't blame them.

Thankfully, they’re not alone when they warp into the temple. Pearl and Garnet are sitting at the counter, caught mid conversation, and Amethyst is flopped lazily across the couch with her arm hanging over the edge. Still shivering, Steven clings ever tighter to Bismuth’s arm, glancing with tear stained eyes between his Gem self and Garnet, the only one in his direct line of sight.

She shoots to her feet. Her mouth twists into an expression laced with more raw panic than he’s ever seen her convey in his life, and that thought alone hurts enough to shoot a physical pang through his nerves.

“Steven! Bismuth!"

“Ah, there you are,” Pearl greets amicably, and begins to turn to face the warp pad. “We were wondering where yo-  _oh good heavens!!"_

“Dude...” Amethyst says as she shoots upright on the couch, her face turning a paler shade of purple.

He feels Bismuth’s form grow tense at their now inescapable attention, her fingers wrapping around his prone body just a little bit tighter. The pink clone generated by his gemstone glitches, the edges of his hard-light form morphing to fuzzy static that phases in and out of shape. Simultaneously, Steven winces at the uncomfortable sensation of pins and needles tingling through his limbs.

Any and all shell-shocked confusion dies at the unquestionable sight of a cracked Gem. His family rushes across the room to the warp pad in no more than a nanosecond flat, their shrill, panicked voices and Bismuth’s overlapping each other until he can barely pick out what any one of them is saying. His ears begin to ring. More arms than his disoriented senses can count dance under his back, and before long a thick blanket is wrapped around him, (is that his entire bedspread?), and he finds himself secure in Garnet’s hold, halfway across the room by the loft stairs. Safe! Admitting it leaves his stomach gnawing with nausea, because it feels so much like a blatant betrayal against the forgiving, accepting person he aspires to be, but it’s a relief to no longer be in the mercy of Bismuth’s grasp.

The Gems continue to fuss and argue about goodness knows what, their faces blurring in and out of focus as the seconds tick on. Notably, Pearl’s voice rises above all the others. She kneels next to Other Steven, wrapping her arm protectively around him. (He may be imagining it, but he swears he can feel the phantom whispers of her touch on his own shoulder.) He’s mostly gotten used to that baseline dull ache left behind in place of his gemstone by now, but whenever his counterpart’s form flickers and warps due to the crack that’s no doubt splayed across the rose quartz’s surface, that ache spikes into sensations uncomfortable enough to make his toes curl. If this is the pain he’s able to feel without his gem altogether, then what kind of agony is Other Steven in? His eyes brim with hot, sloppy tears, a sharp whimper passing his lips. The others are far too busy arguing to notice.

“—took him to the lower forge alone?? What were you thinking? It’s far too hot for him down there!” 

Bismuth pales. “I’m- I honestly didn’t think about—“

“‘Kay, but literally none of this explains this freaky clone action,” Amethyst butts in, jutting her finger towards the pink Steven standing motionless in Pearl’s embrace. “Somehow he split  _entirely apart_ from his gem, so—“

“Enough!” Garnet says. One of her hands gently strokes his forehead, a stark difference from the impatience etched within the tension in her face. “This entire conversation is irrelevant, we should be—“

“Y'guys,” he croaks, but they're all so caught up in argument that he's brushed right over, which... kinda hurts. A lot.

“—how can he fuse with his gem half again if he’s completely hu—“

Pearl bristles. “It is not irrelevant, something terrible’s happened and Bismuth hasn’t explained herself!”

“Pearl, I’m  _trying,_ but you won’t—“

“I don’t care how any of it happened!” Garnet roars. Even though it’s not directed at him, he flinches at the harshness of her anger. “His gem is  _cracked!!”_

The room falls silent.

He nuzzles his head into the crook of her arm, feeling ever safer in her embrace. "Thank you," he whispers. She responds with a gentle squeeze. 

To his side, Bismuth squirms a little, nervously folding her hands together and apart over and over...

“This is all my fault,” she says brokenly. He’s almost positive there’s tears budding at the corners of her eyes.

“This isn’t about us,” Garnet says, more sensitively this time. “This is about helping  _Steven.”_ Then, in a whisper only for him: “Hold on. You’re gonna be all right, I promise.”

Steven gets the sense this comment is more for her benefit than his. He’s unsure if that should scare him or not.

(How many futures has she just watched where he di-  _No,_  he thinks.  _Not going there, nope nope nope.)_

Amethyst hobbles up onto the warp pad then, urgently gesturing for everyone else to join her. “Well come on, no time to waste, yeah? We gotta get the two Stevens to Rose’s fountain!”

The other Gems agree readily, and follow behind. Bismuth’s steps are stiff and stilted. Meanwhile, Pearl leads his quiet pink counterpart by the hand, assisting him up the stairs of the warp amid his glitching. Out of everyone, the blank shock written clear as day across her face suggests she’s especially haunted by the existence of that hard-light version of himself. More so than everyone else. Carefully regarding her as Garnet carries him— still wrapped like a burrito— in his blanket, Steven can’t help but wonder why.

The warp activates, enveloping them in its glow. In seconds, they’re all coursing through the warp stream at record speed. One thing he knows for sure: he’s super glad he has his bedspread with him, because this strange little pocket of space hung between dimensions has a knack for being chilly, especially outside of the stream. It’d suck to start shivering again right after finally settling down. 

Reassuringly, the promise of sunrise greets him in vibrant stripes of pink and orange as they promptly arrive at their location. It‘s night back in Beach City, but he’s pretty sure Mom’s fountain is somewhere in Europe. Maybe France? So, the sunrise makes sense. Large trees and shrubs block out the horizon in every direction, growing wild without constant nurturing. Still, it all looks leagues nicer (and infinitely less threatening) than the first time he came here. A spike of tingling runs up his nerves, reminding him that unfortunately, with his gem cracked, (and still no clue how he split apart from it in the first place), now’s no time to waste sightseeing. His chest tightens as he suddenly realizes he’s missing one crucial family member. One family member he— even if it’s a bit of a childish thought— really wants holding his hand right about now.

“Wait, I need Dad,” he speaks up, voice hoarse and shaky.

Garnet hugs him closer to her chest at that admission. She presses her forehead against his, whispering some reassurance he can’t quite catch.

 _“_ Amethyst, go back and fetch Greg,” Pearl says. “You can meet us at the fountain.”

She nods, for once not even arguing with her orders. “On it." 

Her long lavender hair ripples in waves behind her as she sprints back to the warp pad. Soon enough, he spots a column of cyan light shooting up into the sky. His fingers knead the edge of the blanket he's wrapped in, desperately trying to keep his mind from entertaining all the worst possible outcomes. It's becoming harder to ignore his pink double's suffering, even though he's remained near-silent this whole time. Anyways, he really, really hopes she'll be back with his dad soon.

Steven's attention returns to the others, and he watches as Pearl’s eyes narrow slightly, her glance sliding back to Bismuth.

“When all this is over, we’ll be discussing things like upholding sleep curfews, practical safety tactics, and the key differences between Gem and human anatomy.“

Her brow tightly creasing, she smooths out the front of her apron. “Yup. Received and understood.” 

“We’d also appreciate more context on how all  _this_  happened in the first place,” Garnet says, gesturing between him and the Other Steven hand-in-hand with the tall, salmon haired Gem.

Without any other forewarning, Other Steven’s previously glassy expression snaps into alertness. “Breaking point,” he blurts out for the first time since the forge, tone flat. “Bismuth cracked me—“ a particularly violent glitch overwhelms the stability of his hard-light body, his words fragmenting— “htiw a gnikaerb tniop.”

The strength of Garnet’s hold on him triples, as if in her fury she’s unintentionally forgotten about how she’s carrying him in the first place. He winces, totally not thinking about how he’s watched her poof corruptions by squeezing them. Nope, no siree, not at all.

“Uh, Garnet?”

“She did  _what??!”_ Pearl says, whirling towards the individual in question.

“Okay, okay!” Bismuth backs a few steps away, terror curling across her face at the sight of her looming anger. “So I know it sounds bad, and well, it kinda is, but I swear if you give me the chance to I’ll expla—“

“NO!”

The stone pathway splinters under the hard-light Steven’s feet as he yells, tipping everyone off balance. Pearl and Bismuth stumble and fall. Garnet takes a knee, and somehow avoids dropping him. Around them, a handful of frail limbs on a nearby tree crack and collapse to the ground. Bewildered and genuinely frightened by this display, Steven desperately locks eyes with the other him, watching his form endlessly warp and morph and flicker into impossible shapes. For a fragment of a second he swears his double’s irises flare hot pink.

“You TRUH mih!” Other Steven shouts at Bismuth, his fury pinning her in her spot, even in garbled phrases. “Uoy deirt ot RETTAHS—“

He disappears with a poof of smoke, retreating into the cracked rose quartz gem. _His_ gem. Immediately all phantom pains recede, settling back into that dull emptiness sitting in the pit of his stomach. For but a heartbeat, the gemstone remains airborne, its facets glittering in the glow of the morning sun. It’s _big,_ larger than even seems possible, the exposed pentagonal surface only counting for a fraction of its full size. Somehow hidden within him this whole time, the sides of the pink gem flare outward and jut into a steep point. Pearl audibly gasps, slamming both hands over her mouth. Garnet and Bismuth recoil at the sight.

Then gravity asserts control, and it tumbles down, down, careening towards the hard stone like dead weight. Before it can shatter entirely on the ground, Pearl dives with the finesse of a polished gymnast, catching the gem and clutching it tight to her chest as if to obscure it from the others.

“Pearl?” Steven croaks.

Her face is white as milk, and her slight frame is shuddering. “You were never supposed to...”

“B-but this doesn’t make sense! That wasn’t- you’re not a rose quartz,” Bismuth stutters, carefully standing to her feet. His stomach sinks at the accusation, his brow furrowing with confusion. “That gemstone, it’s—“

In all the years to come, he doubts he’ll ever forget the visceral fear laced within Garnet’s whisper:

_“—it’s Pink Diamond.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cracked/glitching Gem Steven's dialogue, for ease of reading:
> 
> “Breaking point. Bismuth cracked me with a breaking point.”
> 
> “NO! You HURT him! You tried to SHATTER—“
> 
> Basically, he was in such poor shape that he retreated back into his gem (in an futile attempt) to heal. He was exerting far too much energy there in his anger, poor thing.
> 
> __
> 
> Note, none of the CGs actually suspected Bismuth intentionally hurt Steven until that bombshell. Before that, their assumption was that she took him on a lil' midnight sightseeing trip and he got cracked/split by accident. I figure they'd have no reason to suspect any foul play before that.
> 
> And Gem Steven... he finally spoke up when he had information of relevance to add to the conversation. Garnet outright requested more context on how the two Stevens split, gesturing towards him as she did, and so he told her. The argument in the temple was more of an argument about him, and not including him, so he remained quiet. And then later, he's calling Bismuth the heck out on her attempt at squirreling away from the blame. He's... very, very protective of his other half.
> 
> __
> 
> But, hey. Cat's outta the bag now. How about that. :3
> 
> __
> 
> EDIT: Removed detail where Garnet looked a little scared _of_ Steven at the end, because upon further consideration I think she's long separated Rose from Steven in her mind and wouldn't ever think that any of this was his fault. Maybe she's a little scared FOR him and what all of this entails, but certainly not of him.


	3. Restless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which all Greg wants is some damn sleep.

Perhaps it’s mostly due to the fact that his son is mixed species and frequently galavants on magical and oft dangerous adventures with the three alien guardians who have over time become just as much of a family to the boy as he is, but whether he blames it on the fourteen plus years of anxiety progressively gnawing away at him or his chronically poor sleep habits, it’s as clear as the ache in his spine that Greg Universe is far from being the poster child of a good night’s rest.

He’s spent the last hour or so drifting in and out of awareness. Sometimes what rouses him is the subtle ticks of a rickety car driving past on the road outside, a sound his wandering mind has long associated with the dollar signs of potential business. (Not that he’s actually dependent on the car wash to support himself and Steven anymore, but hey, old habits die hard.) In other cases it’s simply... the ocean. He’s never been much of a fan of white noise, and even though he’s lived by the shore for a solid two decades now, the rushing ebb and flow has a nasty knack of keeping him awake. Maybe he should just bite the bullet and splurge for earplugs again. Overwhelmingly though, the main reason sleep tends to be such a stranger to him is because his brain simply refuses to shut up. Snippets of awkward social interactions from the day, worries about the faint stress hidden within his son’s smiles, song lyric rejects, the grocery list he forgot to write before retiring to the cozy, well-worn mattress set up on the van’s floor— just when he thinks he’s reached the end of things to obsess over and can finally slip into the blissful embrace of REM, something else claws out of the very mud of the Earth to bully him awake once more. It’s a vicious cycle.

Greg rolls on his side, and kicks the edge of his downy comforter until it fully covers his cold toes. The nightly temperature is beginning to drop, steadily paving the way for the height of the fall season. It’s not too bad so far, but soon enough the coastal winds will pick up. Delmarva nights get cold this time of year. Steven is warm enough in his bed, isn’t he? He’s got plenty of extra blankets if he needs them? And does he still need to pay the heating bill for this month or did he already—

He chuckles to himself, realizing all the proof he needs of that lays in his meticulously kept checkbook ledger safely tucked away in the glovebox. As always, he’s fussing over nothing. Oh, the woes of parenthood. But his fatherly worries aside, there’s no denying Steven’s genuinely happy living with the Gems. Despite the occasional adrenaline pumping encounter, with Pearl, Garnet, and Amethyst’s constant protection there’s really no safer place he could be.

A faint smile lifts his cheeks as his turbulent mind settles and he begins to doze off again.

Just as he’s about to cross that final canyon into unconsciousness, something raps against the door from outside. He promptly rolls over and groans into his pillow.

“I swear if this is another one of those gulls,” he mutters, out loud but more to himself than anything.

“Greg! Yo G-man, get your butt out here!”

He purses his lips. Nope. No such luck. Looks like it’s gonna be Gem business tonight. He shifts to sit up, rolling his shoulders back with an audible pop and brushing his long hair out of his face before finally shuffling across the van’s floor to crack open the back door.

He peers blankly at the short purple Gem standing ready to knock rapid-fire outside, his body filled with such exhaustion that his eye bags probably have luggage of their own.

“Amethyst,” he begins slowly. “It’s long past midnight, and right now the only thing I give a single damn about is how cozy my mattress is, so unless the world’s literally ending again I’m—“

“Steven’s hurt,” she says rapidly, and it’s only then he’s awake enough to notice the panic jittering through her stout frame.

His heart stutters.

“Wait, _what?”_

At first he swears he’s going senile prematurely. Surely none of this is happening, surely this is no more but a worryingly realistic nightmare, but no. _No._ Everything is too real. The way the cold salt air tousles through his beard, the faint scent of fish wafting from the docks... In the end it’s the glossiness of her eyes that convinces him. He’d never make dream Amethyst cry, because she rarely does.

Her explanation spills forth in a breathless rush.

“Steven, his gem got cracked, and none of us get how but he’s like, somehow split apart, and- and everyone’s at Rose’s fountain and you gotta come with me right now!”

She’s tugging at his arm by the end, and he has no time to slip on sandals or even lock the door before she yanks him out of the van and under the mask of night. He’s already breathing heavy by the time they near the end of the street.

“Hurry!” she urges, the moonlight shimmering off the quartz gem embedded in her chest.

“But what even happened?” he asks, voice high with hysteria, huffing to keep up with her pace. “How did he—“

“I already said, I don’t know! None of us do.”

“What do you _mean_ you don’t—“

“Hey, it’s not our fault! She wouldn’t tell us everything,” Amethyst snaps.

“She?”

They race past the The Big Donut at the corner. Greg’s stomach gurgles on automatic, (did he really forget to eat dinner again?), but he pays it no attention. Not now, not when his son is hurt, not when he _needs_ him, not when he—

“This new Gem who popped up out of nowhere today! Bismuth. She’s apparently like one of Garnet and Pearl’s old Crystal Gem buddies, and I thought she was pretty okay for a bit, but then Steven just up and disappears, and when he comes back he’s with _her_ and he’s split apart, and one of them is cracked, a—“

“Wait, wait, wait- hold on, you keeping saying that, that he’s split apart?”

She nods in confirmation. Greg can practically feel the age weighing on his body as his bare feet leave the boardwalk and scurry through the sand. His pace doubles, the mere thought of his son injured and ~~_(dying??)_~~ in pain thrumming in his mind like a rocker’s drumbeat.

“W-what does that even- is there blood, is he still _breathing??”_ he cries, yanking at his hair.

Realization dawns on her face in a wide mouthed ‘o’ when met with his near-meltdown. “Oh. OH, no I didn’t mean like, ‘cut in half’ split apart, I mean that he’s literally fallen apart! There’s squishy organic Steven, and then there’s this creepy pink Steven that’s entirely projected by his gem!”

_“His gem fell out of his body!?”_

“Dude,” she says, motioning sharply towards the cliffside, “we ain’t got no time to discuss the nitty gritty of this, we gotta hurry!”

With that, she pushes steadily ahead of him, leaving him in the dust- er, sand.

“No time to- _Amethyst,”_ he shouts after her, “for all I‘m aware my son could be _dying_ ‘cause of that, I need to know!!”

Amethyst doesn’t listen, though. Her gemstone glows bright purple, and then she disappears completely into a sphere of white light that rips across the shore at the speed of a stock-car racer. Or faster, maybe— he genuinely doesn’t know. He swears he could hear a mini sonic boom.

“Wait! WAIT!” he yells, throwing his hand in the air as he pushes himself even faster. A sharp pull in his calves causes him to slow to a stop. He doubles over, heaving for breath as he rests his hands on his knees. “I’m not a young man anymore!“

A distant, disembodied voice shoots his way from somewhere on the other side of the cliff. “Just run faster, you’re only like, 40 or somethin’.”

“I can’t!” he says, his voice practically cracking. “That’s the problem!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a short breather chapter, here- for both you _and_ me.
> 
> I imagine Amethyst was holding back her panic last chapter, because she didn't want to further upset Steven. It's only now- apart from him- that she allows herself to finally break down a little.
> 
> Greg is so, so fun to write. I think it should worry me that I relate so much to this poor anxiety man.


	4. Pandemonium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steven has to be the most mature Crystal Gem.

_“—it’s Pink Diamond.”_

Garnet’s words hang over them, as commanding in their presence as the hands of the temple when he’s out playing on the beach under their shadow. Shifting in her arms, Steven squints, the reveal holding far less meaning for him than he imagines it does for everyone else. Did the Gems _mention_ a Pink Diamond before? Sure, he knows a little bit about the so-called Great Diamond Authority, mainly how they tend to colonize and destroy all life on whatever fertile planets they come across— and thanks to Peridot he’s actually seen Yellow Diamond— but Pink? It doesn’t ring any bells. To be fair, they’re still not super transparent about much of their involvement in Earth’s history, but if it’s supposed to be important—

“And how is that even possible?” Bismuth outbursts. Like an overfilled balloon, the tension pops. “We knew Rose, we- we all fought with her against Pink, she—“

As the others continue to tussle over this revelation, Steven realizes with a jolt that Pink Diamond’s existence has been staring him in the face this whole time. “Holy moley,” he breathes to himself, eyes wide as saucers. Of course! The symbols on the ancient sky arena bear a fourth diamond, where more recent Gem structures do not. What color is it? Pink. Back in August, just past his birthday, they popped up to the moon base on Lion’s back. On the bottom floor of the base, the Diamonds are depicted in monolithic murals that are like, fifty feet fall. And how many does he remember seeing? Four. Blue, Peridot’s Yellow, White, and...

The last mural is Pink.

And somehow, according to Garnet Pink Diamond is... Rose? Is his mom? And so then as the recipient of her gem... so is he...? In a way? Geeze, this is so confusing.

“Garnet?!” Pearl calls, and he realizes then that the fusion’s body is quivering. Her arms still wrap protectively around him, but their hold is progressively weakening. Her mouth contorts into a painful grimace.

“Garnet, what’s wro—“ he reaches out, intending to affectionately pat his guardian’s hair, but then her form begins to glow white. All at once, she loses control.

He’s unable to hold back his yelp when her grip on him gives up, unable to heft his weight in this state. Bedspread and all, Steven tumbles to the hard stone. The blankets unravel around him like a ball of yarn. Pearl is at his side in a flash, one hand on his back and the other protectively cupped around his gem. With her help he pulls himself to his knees, limbs shaking with the effort, and turns to set his gaze on Garnet. His throat grows dry at the sight of the agony she’s in.

She’s bent over, arms desperately clinging to herself as if this is the only way she can avoid splitting into two. She clenches her teeth, practically seething as she rides the waves of instability.

“Not the time, not the time, not the time,” she chants to herself. Her body morphs, almost pulling apart into smaller halves.

_Almost._

Moments pass, only noticeable via the frantic beating of Steven’s heart, and miraculously Garnet is still together. Her breathing stills as she stabilizes. The two gems on her hands stop glowing. Slowly but surely, a wide eyed Bismuth approaches and supports her by the shoulder.

“You okay?” she asks, genuine concern tinting her voice.

“I—“ Garnet pauses, her mouth falling slack. “For now. But don’t think this changes anything,” she adds quickly, shrugging away and piercing her with the same sort of intense look that he‘s on the receiving end of whenever he’s in trouble.

She holds her palms outstretched in defense. “Just tryin’ to help where I can, no need to cut your facets down a size.”

“Believe me, you’ve already done enough.”

Pearl taps her foot impatiently, still clutching the inert gemstone. “The fountain is just around the corner,” she says. “Steven, can you walk?”

His brow creases in concentration. That’s a good question, can he? Carefully, he moves one bare foot under him, and tries putting a little weight on it. It’s a little wobbly, his system still acclimating to being entirely without the gem side of his physiology, (a problem which they’ll hopefully fix soon), but not entirely unstable. He shrugs.

“Uh... maybe if I’m leaning on someone?”

“Excellent!” she says, with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Here, take my arm, and I’ll lead you the last few steps.”

“And you,” Garnet growls, striding across to Pearl.

She flinches, her pupils shrinking to pinpricks in the shadow of the fusion’s anger. Steven’s gut twists at the sight. Suddenly he’s unable to shake the memories of the last time the two of them fought.

“Wha- me?”

“You knew.”

Her ivory cheeks flush bright blue. “I—“

All further words are cut off as she slaps her palm to her mouth. She trembles violently, her horrified gaze snapping to that hand as if it’s something invasive and doesn’t belong there.

Bismuth also advances upon her. “You did seem rather calm about all this earlier,” she points out, crossing her arms.

This comment is enough to drive Pearl to channel all her nervous energy elsewhere. She takes a bold step in front of him, no longer hindered by that mysterious invisible force. “And for someone who tried to shatter the most important person on this planet to me, you don’t seem panicked enough,” she spits.

“Save your words!” Garnet says, jabbing her finger at her. “Admit it. You knew, you _knew_ Rose was Pink Diamond, this whole time!”

“Y’ guys!” Steven croaks from his position on the rough stone, watching in dismay as the two of them devolve into conflict. Kneeling there behind them, he can’t help but feel a cold dread climb deep into his skin and seep through his veins— an immobilizing sense of emotional helplessness that rivals that which the loss of his gem gave —or is that merely the morning chill seeping through the legs of his jeans? It’s hard to tell.

“You lied to us. To your friends! To me, to Amethyst… to Steven…”

Rapidly, Pearl shakes her head. “It was never my intention to—“

“But the worst part is, I trusted you so implicitly that I never saw this betrayal coming, not ever!”

“Garnet, please,” she begs, “you have to understand, there are some things that are impossible for me to explain!”

“Try anyway,” she snarls, and summons a gauntlet over her ruby gem.

“I’m trying to tell you, I literally can’t!”

_“But why not?!”_

All that helplessness builds and builds within him as he watches this shameless display, until suddenly something in his mind shifts like the tumblers inside a lock and those feelings turn inside out. Frustration is the only fire burning within him now— frustration that no one’s listening to each other, that everyone is yelling, that every minute they spend arguing over the unchanging past is another minute his gem is damaged and entirely removed from his body, frustration about the disastrous circumstances that threw him into this whole ugly mess in the first place...

Steven slams his eyes shut.

“STOOOP!” he hollers.

He frantically hobbles across to Garnet on his knees, the patterns of the stone’s grain distinguishable through the fabric of his jeans. As he throws his arms around her leg, she lowers her gauntlet... ever so slowly. Pearl breaths a visible sigh of relief. Even Bismuth, standing close behind, turns her gaze in interest to what he has to say. In a perfect world he’d have the strength to literally stand his ground while securing their full attention, but for now he’ll have to improvise. He hugs her leg tighter.

“Come on, stop fighting,” he begs, blinking up at both of them through wide, red rimmed eyes. “You two love each other! And if you love me...”

He pulls away, and gestures towards the gem in Pearl’s grasp. His fingers open wide, ready to take hold of it himself. Ready to feel halfway whole again.

“Let me have it, please.”

She’s about to do just that when the bridge of Bismuth‘s nose crinkles with alarm. “B-but wait,” the rainbow haired Gem butts in, pushing her broad figure between them, “if we fix the crack, when Pink reforms, how do we know she won’t—“

“It’s not her anymore,” Steven says insistently, fighting to keep the full intensity of his frustration with her out of the micro expressions of his face. “It’s me! You all saw him.” Taking a deep breath, he sits back on his heels and takes this moment to make eye contact with each one of them in turn. “Listen, I know there’s a lot you’re upset about, and a lot we still don’t understand. I mean, I barely know who this Pink Diamond is! But all the arguing‘s gotta stop. If we’re going to figure this out, it has to be together. It _has_ to. Okay?”

Pearl gives a tight nod, her mouth pressing into a thin line. She silences any further argument from Bismuth in a single acerbic glare, the stockier Gem backing away as if standing on hot coals, and suddenly he understands why people used to call her the ‘terrifying renegade pearl.’ Her expression softens when she turns to him. She extends the gemstone to him like an offering, gently guiding it into his hands. They held it together for a moment, and as his quivering thumbs stroke its glassy surface he swears he can sense faint vibrations from within. Damaged, but inside, still so very much brimming with life.

“It’s not about us,” she says, and releases the gem to his care. She peers up at Garnet, inclining her brow pointedly. “It’s about him.”

At hearing her earlier words thrown back at her, the fusion sighs wearily. She drops her gauntlet laden arm, and lets the weapon phase back into her gem. Like steam dissipating with exposure to chilled air, it’s clear all the fight’s been drained out of her. “You’re right, Steven. Of course you are. We‘re wrong to jump to conclusions with so little information to work with.”

“Yeah, exactly!” he chimes, lifting his pink gemstone to eye level and admiring the way the light refracts through its facets— though this refraction is of course thrown off by the jagged gouge marring its flat pentagonal center. “For all we know, maybe you got a bit carried away and this gem’s just a regular ol’ rose quartz after all!”

“No, that’s definitely a diamond.”

The bluntness of this statement wipes the faint smile off his face.

“...oh.”

“But you made a good point,” Garnet says, and at noticing his stress ruffles his hair. “No matter what we feel, it’s not her. It’s your gem now. So, we’re gonna mend it.”

Pearl loops her arm through his, helping him up. For the first time since all this madness began Steven plants his bare feet on solid ground. His knees wobble under his body weight, and he inhales sharply, an intrusive image of him collapsing, dropping his gem, and watching it shatter into a zillion tiny shards zipping through his mind like lightning. But his guardian holds tight, keeping him from toppling over.

“That’s it, small steps,” she whispers, guiding him. “We’ll walk slowly, okay?”

Garnet promptly falls in line behind them, and he can only assume Bismuth tries to follow as well because Garnet barks for her to stay back. He swivels to match eyes with the one who cracked him— a flurry of complicated emotions swirling within him all the while that he’s definitely not ready to unpack— and watches her face crumple as they leave her behind. The foliage thins. Soon enough they reach the vast, glittering basin, filled to the brim with his mom’s healing tears. Adorning the central platform of the grand fountain, that familiar ringlet laden statue looms over them. Steven thought it almost ethereal the first time he came to this place, but seeing it now just serves to leave him with a knot in his stomach, right in the hole his mother’s gem left. Knowing the bitter truths they do now, the peaceful smile painstakingly etched across her stone visage feels like a mockery.

Pearl leads him to the fountain’s edge and helps him sit on its rim. Both her and Garnet join him on either side. Basking in the morning sun’s warmth, it’s easy to forget that it’s like one am back in Beach City, and that he’s not supposed to be awake right now. His eyelids droop. Hopefully soon this nightmare will all be over so he can collapse in his bed, cuddle with one of his stuffed animals, and have the deepest, most dreamless sleep of his life. His glance drops to the diamond in his hands.

“Well,” he says, a noticeable shake in his voice. “Here goes nothing.”

Slowly and oh-so-carefully, he plunges his gem under the water’s surface. The other two watch, enraptured, as its surface glows with a shimmering brilliance. Simultaneously the deep crack splayed across its pentagonal facet begins to recede. He counts three seconds… then five… by eight, the gouge is gone entirely. Eyes sparkling, he lifts the gem into the air. Now he can barely tell it was damaged in the first place! Maybe he’s reading into things too much and it’s nothing more but the manifestation of sweet, sweet relief, but Steven wonders if fixing his gem is to thank for lifting the cloud over his mind. He already feels ten times more alert and able than before. (Although he still doubts his ability to walk. Should he be concerned how physically weak he is on his own, completely human?) Nevertheless, he clutches the repaired diamond to his chest, grinning at his guardians.

“Maybe we should come here more often, ‘coz I think this is the shiniest my gem’s ever been,” he jokes with a weak laugh.

“Oh, thank goodness!” Pearl sighs, and throws herself around him.

Garnet joins her in the embrace, and with a sniffle, Steven buries his face in the crook of her arm. His eyes flutter shut as he allows his worries to momentarily melt away. The faint vibrations of their hard light bodies thrum steadily in time with his heartbeat. Gems may not have a physical heart like humans or other kinds of organic life, but Pearl taught him their gemstones constantly refresh their forms through the channels of light running from their core outward, and that in practice it’s pretty similar to the blood pumping through his circulatory system. In any case, it’s a comforting reminder that he’s safe.

“Now can we talk about this peacefully, without yelling?” he says softly.

“Of course,” Garnet says with one of her customary half-smiles, and after giving him one last squeeze pulls away. “Bismuth!” she calls. “Your damage has been fixed. You can come out from the tree you’re sulking behind now.”

Still clutching him tight, Pearl stiffens. “Wha-! After what she did to Steven, you’re just going to let her—?”

She tips down her visor, regarding her directly. “Believe me,” she mutters, voice brimming with a rock solid assurance that could only come from future vision, “she won’t be trying that again.”

Pearl helps him sit with his back against the fountain’s lip as the other Crystal Gem rejoins the group. Bismuth’s fingers fidget almost hyperactively, clasping and folding over and over in front of her blacksmith’s apron. Steven watches her glance drift to the gem he now holds in his lap, and while she's calmer than before now that it's mended, there’s an undeniable fear lurking underneath as well. His shoulders hunch. Is that what his mother’s shadowy past evokes in everyone? Fear?

He‘s beginning to wish he never popped that bubble in Lion’s mane in the first place.

“Pearl, can you tell us _anything_ about Pink Diamond and Rose?” he asks, opening the conversation.

She bites at her lip, glancing between the three of them. Garnet regards her with an especially careful focus.

“No...”

He frowns. “But you want to, right?”

“More than anything,” she whispers, her blue irises glittering.

Apparently her words enclose some sort of hidden meaning, because the tenseness in Garnet’s expression begins to fade away, a wave of understanding crashing onto shore to replace it. “Gag order.”

His nose crinkles. “What’s that? It doesn’t sound very nice.”

“That’s because it isn’t. The diamonds have the capability of giving irrefutable orders to Gems who are bound to them,” the fusion explains, crossing her arms. “Such as, individuals in their court who were given as gifts, or... personal pearls. Pink Diamond must have commanded her not to speak of her true identity.”

“So hold on. Lemme see if I can get this straight. You think,” Bismuth begins, and points directly at Pearl, “that before the rebellion _she_ was Pink Diamond’s personal pearl? Our lone Pearl?”

The Gem in question shifts uncomfortably at their discussion, clamping her lips together. Silently, Steven hugs her from the side, pressing his cheek against her upper arm. Her form quivers.

“Yes, I do.”

“And then somehow, Rose Quartz, respected leader of that rebellion, was actually the diamond were were supposedly fighting against all along? Was fake? Just some created persona? But why would some spoiled, imperialistic upper crust do that in the first place? None of this makes any sense!”

“If I could actually explain anything, it’d make more sense than you’d expect,” Pearl says.

“Maybe she just _wanted_ to be Rose Quartz,” Steven shrugs. “Is that so bad?”

Garnet adjusts her opaque glasses. “Depends on what her motives were. See, I thought I knew Rose. Knew what she stood for. Now I have no way of being sure.” She pauses, gazing vacantly between him and Bismuth. “None of us do.”

The group lapses into uncomfortable silence at this, their sense of morale deflating further and further as the moment stretches on. That sick, twisted feeling in his gut returns with a vengeance. Talking is still leagues better than fighting, but… now his family is suspicious and tense, battered and broken. He doesn’t want this. Desperately, he looks to Garnet.

“But… Pearl can find a way to get around that gag order eventually, can’t she? Then she can tell us everything herself!”

“I’ve tried,” the lithe Gem blurts out, hugging her knees to her chest. “Ever since Homeworld Gems started returning to this planet I’ve tried everything I could think of to get around it, but it’s been a part of me for so long that I don’t know if I _can.”_

“Tampering with a Diamond’s commands is too risky. A Gem could shatter under that pressure,” Garnet says. Delicately, she rests her hand on Pearl’s shoulder. “I’ve lost too many friends to this war. As much as I want to know the truth, I won’t risk another.”

Tears bud at the corner of Pearl’s eyes, which she quickly dabs away with the butt of her palm. In the lush garden around the fountain, a flurry of birds begin their morning songs, their lilting chirps meshing together into more complex melodies until they coalesce into a grand symphony. It’s achingly beautiful, and since song birds like this don’t nest near his home Steven is mesmerized. There’s a bizarre dissonance, however, between the content mood their singing encourages and the dour shadow he can’t seem to escape from under. A golf ball sized lump catching in his throat, his attention returns to the pink diamond in his lap. The diamond that should be sitting flush in his belly right now, its weight as ordinary and familiar as the clothes on his back. He splays his hand over his stomach. Even if he’s beginning to recover from the initial shock by now, the absence of his gem still haunts him to his core, still feels like someone’s reached into his chest cavity and yanked out one of his essential organs. It’s always been a part of him, ever since he was born, but now, because of what Bismuth did, because he wasn’t careful enough...

His eyes burn, growing damp.

“So... does this mean I’m just. Human, now? Forever? Is that it?”

“Oh, Steven,” Pearl breathes, and pulls him tight into her embrace. The dams break, and hot, sloppy tears roll down his cheeks.

“No matter what, you’ll always be a Crystal Gem to us,” Garnet says softly, tracing abstract shapes on his back as he cries.

“But I won’t have my shield!” he blubbers, voice thick. “Without my gem I won’t have _any_ of my powers! And- a-and if I’m completely human now, and humans can’t fuse with Gems, then how—“

“We wait and see. You’ll be alright, I promise.”

“I hear footsteps approaching,” Bismuth says. Bounding in front of them with the force of a door slamming shut, she morphs her fist into a mallet.

Sure enough, true to her claim he hears movement nearby— and as it grows closer, wonderfully familiar voices too. His heart soars. When did they miss the sound of the warp pad activating?

Pearl bristles. “Put that away, it’s just Amethyst and Greg.”

 _“Greg?_ What kinda Gem’s a Greg?” she asks, brow creasing.

“He’s not a Gem, he’s my dad!”

Fresh tears spring forth as he catches a glimpse of the pair approaching from the distance at a generous clip. They emerge into the clearing, forms no longer obscured by the trees’ shadows. Amethyst’s features are wide and frantic, and his dad hauls the bedspread they left behind midway to the fountain. He’s breathing heavy as he plods along, nearly wheezing. They match eyes simultaneously.

“Dad!” he cries, hoarse.

“Steven! I’m coming!”

His dad hastens his pace, scurrying across the remainder of the clearing on his last burst of adrenaline quicker than even Amethyst. He almost trips on a dangling edge of the comforter but catches himself a heartbeat before disaster. Shaking his head he tosses the whole mass of blankets to the ground and keeps running. Steven thrusts his gem into Pearl’s care and daringly, on his own strength, pushes himself to his feet. His knees almost buckle, but through either a miracle or sheer stubbornness he somehow manages to carve his way across the rough hewn stone to the one person he needs right now more than anyone in the world. With all the rest of the Crystal Gems in witness, he bounds towards the promise of his dad’s cozy embrace. He gasps in alarm when his legs finally give out at the last step. Unable to stop himself, he starts to crumple…

“Whoa-ho there!” Dad exclaims, catching him just as he’s about to crash knee-first into the rocky ground. “We don’t need you hurting yourself again…”

“I’m okay now!” Steven says, swaying unevenly in his hold. “I’m- I don’t know how much Amethyst told you, but I’m okay.”

The rigidity in his dad’s body increases tenfold as he pulls him even tighter, pressing his tear stained cheek against the hem of his sweaty old tank top.

“She said that- that you’d split apart or something, and your gem was cracked, and—“

“Dad, you’re squishing me,” he says, voice muffled against his chest.

“Oh, whoops!” he chuckles, and eases up on him. “Guess I’m just really glad to see you moving and alert. Sorry we took so long, Schtu-ball. Your ol’ man ain’t as agile as he used to be.”

Steven flashes him what he hopes is a reassuring smile, and wipes his face dry. A hand lays itself on his shoulder then, and he turns his head to find Amethyst peering at him in interest.

“Yo, where’d your creepy twin go?”

Pearl crosses her arms. “Amethyst!”

“Did you guys, like, deal with his crack yet?” she asks, completely ignoring the other Gem’s chastising. He has to admit, ignoring the jab she made at the other Steven, the level of concern etched upon her face is genuinely touching.

“Uh, he kinda poofed?” he says, gesturing towards the rest of the Gems. “But the gem’s fixed! Pearl has it.”

Pearl lifts the diamond so they can all see. Its facets catch the sun's glow, scattering the light in all directions. His dad’s face grows pale at the sight.

“Man, and here I thought you were exaggerating,” he mutters to Amethyst.

She shrugs widely. “Maybe about everything else, but not when it’s actually serious.”

“What I don’t understand is _how_ it happened. That gem’s huge! And it’s not like it’s gonna fall right out. How on Earth did you lose it anyway?”

Garnet and Pearl shoot a poisonous glance in Bismuth’s direction. If it were subtle that'd be one thing, but it's blatant enough that all other conversation runs silent. His skin nearly crawls in the awkward silence. He can feel sweat bead on his brow as he watches his dad's expression grow taut. 

“Whoa," Amethyst says, holding up her hands. "I’m, uh, feeling some real uncomfortable vibes here. What’d I miss?”

Steven gives a nervous laugh, and runs his hand through the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Well... that’s kinda a long story.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, thank you all so much for all your encouragements and support for this whacky little idea! That genuinely means the world to me. <3 A few meta notes on all the pandemonium that took place this chapter:
> 
> -Pearl’s gag order still stands even after the reveal because that mental lock has not been undone yet. I headcanon that it would take an individual actually crossing through her memories ala in canon to unlock that door. But since “Hey Steven, climb through my head and find my phone” is such a bizarrely specific idea, it won’t be something Pearl will consider as a potential solution for a long while.
> 
> -In the end, I chose to interpret the order this way because it allows Steven to still have a mystery to unfold. As a writer that’s far more fun than an info-dump.
> 
> -Garnet, as unstable as she currently is, was letting her anger get the best of her in her fear of the fact that she never saw this possibility coming, and took that out on Pearl. If she stopped to think she would’ve realized the reason why Pearl couldn’t provide any information much earlier.
> 
> -At this point, Bismuth is super lucky that her rash attempt at shattering Steven isn’t the headline right now. Everyone’s still so focused on the Pink Diamond revelation that nobody’s quite gotten around to dealing with that issue yet. Her time is coming, though. It's just not currently a priority.


	5. Onward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Greg receives some answers, Bismuth faces her consequences, and Steven really needs to go to bed.

“So… hold on,” Greg says slowly, raising his hand to cut off the others’ incessant yammering. “Just lemme- let me take a moment to see if I can properly wrap my head around everything. So you’re saying that—“

He turns on the one they identified as Bismuth, pointing at her with such ferocity that his finger might as well be a— what did they call it again? Oh, yes!— a ‘breaking point’ itself.

“—that she tried to  _kill_  my son by smashing his gem?”

“Mmmhmm,” Garnet nods.

As usual her eyes are entirely hidden behind her opaque visor, something that always made getting to know the Gem particularly daunting in those early days, but by now he’s close enough to infer her full disposition from her body language and tone alone. And as far as he can tell from the clipped words and stiff movements, she’s pissed. The full brunt of her anger is thankfully restrained… he imagines for Steven’s sake. He hugs his son closer, the boy currently nestled against his midsection and sitting on the fountain’s rim. Garnet sits on his other side, with Amethyst next to Steven. Pearl, meanwhile, kneels on the ground holding a surprisingly deep-cut gemstone in her lap, the very gemstone that by all rights should be embedded in his son’s navel but currently isn’t. He frowns and tugs at his hair (a bad habit of his, over the decades), finding his thoughts growing more and more fragmented over this by the second.

“But she only tried to kill him because she thought he was Rose… who bubbled her thousands of years ago because she wanted her to shatter Pink Diamond. But then Rose actually was Pink Diamond… all along? And somehow fake shattered  _herself?”_

“Yup, that’s pretty much it,” Steven says with a faint laugh, no amount of falsified cheer able to conceal the conflict brewing within him. Greg watches him clutch at the bottom hem of his shirt, and his heart nearly shatters right there on its own. His boy’s grown worryingly savvy as of late, plastering on a brave face whenever he thinks the others can’t handle the full burden of a child’s stress. He probably assumes he’s getting away with it, too. His mistake. One of the many things fathers grow attuned to over the years is the habits and facial tics of their children. All that said, if this is troubling for him, he can’t begin to imagine how traumatic and confusing this upheaval is for Steven.

_God, and he’s only fourteen! He shouldn’t have to deal with any of Rose’s war fallout._

“And then,” Greg continues, gesturing between his son and the pink gem Pearl holds, “before she could actually kill him he split in two?”

“It was almost like he abruptly unfused,” Bismuth supplies, maintaining a healthy distance from the rest of the group.

“But it didn’t feel like fusion at all,” Steven says, and shudders. “It hurt, it hurt really bad.”

“He was unconscious for at least a minute. The half with the gem, the pink one, started screaming and tried to fight me away from him but I knew I had to get him off the forge’s surface so he didn’t burn.” The rainbow haired Gem hangs her head in shame. “I was so worried he wouldn’t wake up ‘coz of me.”

“Yeah, sure ya’ were,” Amethyst spits, and crosses her arms.

Pearl’s eyes narrow with a precise intensity. “Amethyst, please. Not now.”

Contrary to whatever assumptions on her he held before, Bismuth shows no inclination to argue in any vain hope of saving face. Instead she stands stiff before the group, appearing just as haunted by the consequences of her actions as Steven is. While the back-and-forth between her and the Crystal Gems continues, her fingers twitch, desperately yearning for something to tinker with. As someone who frequently seeks out the reliable comfort of strumming improvised chords on his guitar in times of stress, he can relate. Of course, far be it for him to excuse this new Gem’s actions when they almost cost him his only son, but at least she has the decency to express remorse over it. He’s furious at her, he truly is, and yet… He also can’t help but feel a twinge of pity lighten his heart upon hearing her side of the story. Huh, funny. Normally he’s more apt to harbor a stone cold grudge over this sort of stuff. He blames his kid’s influence.

“I was angry at Rose, not Steven,” Bismuth says as he tunes back in to the conversation. “I was so sure that this was all just another one of her lies that I— well, you all know. But when I saw what I’d done…. When they split apart and he fell to the ground, I—!”

Her voice cracks, and he watches her nearly crumble like chalk.

“I- I made a terrible mistake, and I’m genuinely sorry,” she finishes.

“‘Kay, so you’re super sorry and promise never to hurt him again, we get it,” Amethyst says, blunt sarcasm oozing from her words. “But seriously, is no one gonna address the ginormous cluster hangin’ over our heads? Y’guys! New headline! We just found out Rose was a total sham!”

Steven holds up a finger as he interjects. “Actually, we don’t know anything except that she was apparently Pink Diamond, but…”

“Yeah, and Pink D’s like, the bad guy, Steven! She’s the reason they had to fight this whole stupid war in the first place! And then, what? She creates  _you_  just so she doesn’t have to deal with the fact she’s a liar?”  
  
The young teen shrinks away from her anger, a lump forming in his throat. Greg’s jaw clenches. His hand tightens around his son’s midsection.

“None of this is Steven’s fault,” Garnet says quietly, firmly placing her sapphire laden hand on the purple Gem’s shoulder to quiet her down. She shrugs away at her touch, lips jutting into a pout.

“Or any of yours’," Pearl says.

Greg’s eyes lock on the slender Gem at her abrupt comment, and he watches with apt attention as her thumb glides across the largest facet of the diamond in her lap. Hearing her voice comes as a surprise, as she’s been unusually absent from this conversation thus far. It seems none of the others want to talk about it in depth right now, but apparently she’s forbidden from mentioning anything about Pink Diamond. It’s yet another betrayal, yet another reason why the sight of the rose blossoms growing wild around them and the delicately carved curly-haired statue at the fountain’s center leaves him with uncertainty gnawing at the pit of his stomach.

And yet…  _and yet._

What if he’s being a hypocrite about all of this? It’s not like he told Rose everything about his past, either. Rose was a diamond, sure, but— he’s a DeMayo. There’s a number of dark days attached to that name he’d rather let die in the past too. Are they really entitled to the full narrative of the life she left behind? Is anyone?

He scratches at his scalp. “Listen, Amethyst. I understand all of you are upset, and rightfully so. I can’t exactly say I’m thrilled to hear all of this either. But the bottom line is… I know the woman I loved. Maybe not for long, but I grew to know her in ways far more intimate than even some of you. And if there’s one thing I can say for absolute certainty, it’s that… despite her mistakes, despite everything else she probably lied about, her love and respect for all of you was not a sham.”

Pearl nods. “I almost can’t believe I’m agreeing with Greg of all people, but he’s right.”

“And you’re entitled to believe that,” Garnet says evenly. “But no matter what we believe, I still think it’s wise to try not to make assumptions about her in the first place. Either good, or bad. At this point, what we know is what we know, and I can’t see any easy way of changing that in the near future.”

“So, what are we supposed to do about all this now?” Amethyst asks, all her earlier anger dissipated in her exhaustion.

She considers this for a second, visor glinting in the glow of sunrise.

“Nothing.”

_“What?”_

The fusion doesn’t budge an inch. “We don’t change our tactics.”

“But- but if she was our leader, and we always just blindly followed what she wanted, then—“

“No matter her original intentions, the Crystal Gems, as a movement, is far bigger than one diamond,” she says. “We move onward. We thrive. Never mind Rose.”

Steven squirms in his embrace, and in a small, timid voice— a jarring reminder of the child he still is despite his recent leap in emotional maturity— asks the question he’s sure has been weighing on him ever since he got split apart in the first place.

“What about me, and my—“ he tries and fails to stifle a yawn— “my gem? What am  _I_  supposed to do now?”

“We’ll deal with your Gem half when he reforms, and he will,” Garnet says gently. “But right now, you need your rest. We all do. Pearl, Amethyst, help him to the temple and get him tucked into bed. Bismuth, Greg. I need to speak to both of you.”

Everyone nods at the Crystal Gem leader’s directions, and they all act accordingly. His eyes drooping just as much as his son’s despite the pink tinted skies and chirping meadowlarks, Greg helps him stand to his feet. Steven’s knees still quiver but thankfully this time he doesn’t crumple. Pearl loops one of her arms through his, still holding his gem in her opposing hand, and together they begin to plod towards the warp pad they arrived earlier. Amethyst follows them but notably lags behind, guilt written across her face clear as day. She delivers one final glance at Bismuth, razor sharp and flaring with hurt, and then disappears in the orchard’s shadow.

A palpable silence brews between the two remaining Gems then, uncomfortable enough that he’s almost left with sweat beading on his brow just watching them. Eventually doing so becomes too stressful, and he moves to retrieve the downy comforter that’s long since been forgotten on the stone midway to the fountain. He folds the bedding as compact as he can, and drapes it over his non dominant arm, distantly acknowledging that it’ll have to go in the wash. He wishes he could’ve gone home with Steven too. What does she need a human like him for right now, anyways? He’s no fighter, or mediator. The cool grey one blows a nervous puff of air from between her lips and wraps her hands around a few strands of her rainbow dreads. Garnet‘s expression twists into a frown. Stepping towards her, she crosses her arms.

“Bismuth…”

“If you’re going to bubble me away again, just say it,” she blurts out, hanging her head in resignation.

Ever so subtly, Garnet tilts her head as if caught off guard by the visceral hurt pooling in the other Gem's words. In any case, her tone remains steady.

“We’re not bubbling you.”

“What? You’re—?”

“It was avoidable miscommunication that led to that the first time. I won’t let that happen again, especially not to a friend. However,” she says, holding up a finger before the other Gem can interject, “as consequence for striking a fellow Crystal Gem in cold blood, until further notice you are no longer welcome in the temple. You will not seek us out. You will in no circumstance find yourself alone with Steven. If we require your help and you are willing, we’ll call for it. But for now, until we’re ready to begin to forgive, you’re on your own.”

Bismuth’s gaze turns up towards her once more, sober in silent acceptance. She blinks rapidly to stave away the tears, and her lips press together tight. Greg’s unsure if the emotion she’s desperately barring away is remorse about her exile or shell shocked relief that she won’t be bubbled away for another five millennia.

“I encourage you to explore this planet as you reflect upon your actions,” Garnet continues. “I think you’ll find a lot has changed since the rebellion… and I think that with time, so can we all.”

“Am I relieved now?” she asks, voice thick and wavering.

She regards her with a long, searching look as she deliberates. “Yes. You may go.”

At first Bismuth spins on her heels, making to leave, but apparently something else stirs on her soul because she pauses. Taking a deep breath, she whirls back around to face the fusion.

“I know this probably doesn’t count for much after all that happened, but. I truly am sorry, for everything.” She turns to regard him directly, her gaze piercing but sincere. “Tell Steven that I hope he can forgive me one day.” And, to the other Gem: “And tell Pearl I’m sorry for what she had to go through, with Pink.”

“I will.”

“Take care of them, would you? Yourself, too.”

Garnet nods. Perhaps as a final sign of goodwill between old war comrades, she offers her hand. The way she does leaves the sapphire on her palm fully exposed. Greg bets it’s a powerful and evocative gesture to a Gem who is being punished for almost shattering another. It’s a salve, an acknowledgement that  _you can become better, and I trust that you already are._

Bismuth links her broad fingers between hers, and exhales shakily. “Goodbye, old friend. I hope I’ll see you again one day. And hey, if any of you ever…  _bismuth_  me,” she jokes with a weak laugh, “you know where I’ll be.”

She gives her hand a gentle squeeze, and then breaks away. Her eyes can’t quite meet theirs.

“Go in peace,” Garnet says.

Greg and her watch in quiet respect as the rainbow haired Gem turns on a dime and departs from them, leaving both the fountain and the ranks of the Crystal Gems behind as she fades beyond the shadow of the grove. They wait. Not too long after, a bar of pure cyan light shoots to the sky, accompanied by that resonant bell like tone he’s long associated with the warp pads. At the sound some of the tension in his companion’s form finally eases. She reaches to wipe under her visor. Geeze, tonight’s really been a high emotion day for her as well, huh? First she’s reunited with an old friend she hasn’t seen face to face in millennia, and then later that evening she’s met with the terrifying threat of Steven’s mortality…wherein she learns that this same old friend is the reason he’s cleaved apart and cracked to begin with. And then there’s all of Rose’s lies, which— as much as he loved her— he’s sure he’ll also have to wrestle with in the coming season.

She sighs, and turns to him.

“And as for you...”

He scratches at his scalp. “Heh heh, am I in trouble too?”

She chuckles briefly, lips turning up in a soft smile. “No, of course not. The truth is, I need your help. I can’t always… be here, to look after Steven.”

His brow creases. Such oddly specific words from such an articulate person. ‘Be here?’ What does she mean, that she’s leaving the other Gems? That she’s going on some extended mission? And why now, of all times?

“What do you mean?”

“My future vision is clouded, incomplete, but I can sense we’re approaching a crossroads.” She lays both gems on his shoulders, and suddenly her visor flashes away, her three eyes intensely pouring into his, searching,  _beseeching._  It’s the single most vulnerable expression he’s ever seen her convey.

“Greg. He trusts you with matters he doesn’t always trust us with. I know you’ve mostly kept your distance from Gem activities up to this point, but the time is coming when you won’t be able to separate these worlds anymore. I need you to keep a close watch on him. For me. Promise me you’ll do that.”

“O- of course,” he says, mind nervously whirring with an infinitude of uncertain futures based on this new information, and oh golly, does this even lay a finger to what she experiences every moment of every day? “But if you don’t mind me asking, what’s coming? What crossroads?”

“I don’t know,” she admits, her gaze falling wayward. “I can barely see the shape of our future anymore, only faint impressions. And… and that terrifies me. So much has changed so quickly.”

She’s nearly quivering, eyes blown wide, and Greg only now realizes the degree to which he took her unyielding strength for granted all this time. He rocks back and forth on the balls of his bare feet, reaching for an answer on what to do, what to say to support a person who until now, has never been in need of that support.

“Are… you handling things okay?”

Garnet clamps her lips together, taking a moment to ground herself once more. Then with a intentional flick of her fingers, her visor shimmers back into place.

“No,” she says evenly. “No, I’m afraid I’m not.”

 

* * *

 

He exhales with a prolonged, meandering sigh when the two of them finally reach the temple, solid crystal phasing into existence under his feet in a bright flash of cyan. Despite how long he’s known the Gems, a trip through the warp stream is a rarity for him. In the beginning that was mostly Pearl’s doing— with her staunch refusal of allowing humans anywhere near Gem structures vocal enough to convince Rose to leave him behind. Thankfully Pearl began to tolerate him enough in the later years of the relationship that she lifted the ban. After that he and Rose would occasionally steal away on dates in exotic locations only accessible by warp pad, and while he has many fond memories of his time with her in these breathtaking places he must admit he’s never been a big fan of this form of travel in the first place. He’s not keen on flying for similar reasons— it’s simply too disorientating. What can he say, he’s a wheels to the ground sort of guy.

He carefully steps down from the raised platform. In the loft, bundled under fresh bedding, Steven stirs awake and lifts his head upon hearing their arrival. Dark bags emphasize his puffy, reddened eyes. Greg’s heart seizes at the realization that he’s been crying all on his own, when no one can see him, in the dark.

“Dad, Garnet!” he whispers, forcing a weak grin. “You’re back!”

He tosses the dirty comforter on the floor next to the warp pad, and bounds across the room to him as fast as his weary joints possibly can.

“Hey, buddy,” he says, climbing up the stairs to the loft. He plops himself down at the foot of the mattress. “You all cozy now?”

His son snuggles even deeper under the sheets, clutching one of his stuffed bears to his chest. “Yup, all tucked in.”

“Good, good. I, uh- I’m really glad you’re okay.”

And at these words, exhaustion weighs Steven down like a twenty pound barbell, shattering his brave facade. He visibly deflates, his eyelids drooping.

“Yeah,” he sighs, blankly staring off into the distance.

Upon following the path of his glance, however, Greg realizes that he’s actually not staring at nothing. He’s watching Garnet first and foremost, who’s leaning against the fridge, but more importantly… Sitting smack dab in the middle of the kitchen counter is his inert gemstone, nestled within the cottony folds of a bath towel. Of course. He needn't a second guess of what has him so glum. He leans in to embrace him and Steven immediately reciprocates, flinging his arms around his neck so tight that given the option of comforting his kid or constant, steady airflow he’d choose to forgo the breathing every time.

“Can you sleep here tonight?” he asks, voice brimming with a vulnerability he hasn’t heard from him for a few years.

“Of course. I’ll never say no to a good couch, heh heh.”

“No, I mean— with me, up here. Please. I really, really don’t wanna be alone right now.”

His son pulls away, and peers at him with the most doleful, starry eyes one could muster. He can’t help but chuckle.

“You do know you ain’t gotta pull out the puppy dog eyes on me, right?”

“Yeah, but was it  _working?”_

“All right,” Garnet interrupts, leisurely making her way up the steps to the loft. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

He nods in full agreement. It’s super late, and the kid desperately needs some rest after all the trauma of this evening. Working together, parent and guardian, they help tuck him back, snug and secure. Heeding to Steven’s request, he crawls under the covers as well, leaning against the far wall. Distantly, he notes that he left his van unlocked when Amethyst whisked him away to the fountain, but by this point he’s too comfortable here on this mattress to dream of making the trek across town to fix that. He’ll just have to trust it’ll be fine. Beach City is a small, secluded place, after all. Most residents barely lock their doors at night.

“Garnet, am I even able to fuse with my gem again?” Steven asks meekly, before she can turn to leave them to rest.

She pauses, balling her fist against her mouth as she considers.

“I can’t see everything, but I do know you’ll be alright,” she promises, and reaches down to brush through his dark curls. Delicately, she presses a kiss to his forehead. Steven’s eyes light up instantly. This time, he grins for real.

“Wow, homemade waffles? And we’re all sharing them as a family! Well, except Pearl, of course. But she’s still there with us.”

“That’s right. It’s together breakfast.”

The tension wound through Greg's spine eases at hope’s return to the atmosphere of this household. With a relieved smile, he rubs his hands together. “Guess I’m breaking out the ol’ waffle iron tomorrow, then!”

Steven throws his arms around the taller Gem. “Thank you,” he says, clinging tight. “I really needed that. Can you… maybe stay out here with us too?”

The puppy dog eyes return in force. Any weaker individual (himself included) would surely be powerless to resist this maelstrom of pure Universe charm, but Garnet’s no brittle Gem. From what little she confided to him back at the fountain, he bets she's in want of some alone time right now. True to his predictions, she smiles apologetically.

“I wish I could, but I have some delicate matters that need to be attended to in the temple.”

“Awwwww, man!”

“But I’ll see you at breakfast,” she adds before his burgeoning pout can fully reach his eyes.

This promise seems to placate the boy enough for him to relax into his pillow. His eyes droop as he watches Garnet amble down the stairs. He’s not the only one— Greg’s own eyes are beginning to ache from sheer exhaustion as well. A sudden spike of jealousy overtakes him, upon remembering how the rest of the Gems don’t get tired, and don’t require sleep. If only, if only. Oh boy, tomorrow’s going to be rough, isn’t it? It’s what… at least one in the morning by now? Squinting, he cranes his neck to catch a glimpse of Steven’s alarm clock.

It’s twelve forty-six. Close enough. With any luck he’ll drift off to sleep within the next fifteen or so minutes.

“I love you,” Garnet says from downstairs, directed at Steven. She shapes her fingers into a heart. His lips curve into a smile as he watches this. While he’s never doubted the depth of her affection for him, she isn't often this transparent about it. Perhaps she thought his son could use the reminder in the wake of a terrifying near-death experience.

“Love you too,” Steven chimes. “Goodnight!”

With that, the Gem retreats across the room to the temple door. She holds her palms up to the star insignia. The matching gems light up, glowing a vibrant blue and red, and the magical doorway slides open— almost as if dissolving from the middle— to reveal the private chamber held within. She steps forward and disappears into the bowels of the temple, leaving the two Universe boys bundled under the covers in an uneasy silence. Steven sighs under his breath. Greg can tell without looking at him that something is gnawing away at his son's heart, bubbling up within him like soda fizz. 

“Dad?" he eventually asks, flopping onto his side to face him. "Where’s Bismuth? Did she leave from the fountain?”

Yup, there it is. He feared this was coming.

“She’s—“ he pauses, trying to determine how best to phrase this— “Garnet had a discussion with her. She’s not welcome here in the temple until further notice. As punishment.”

Understanding dawns on his face. “Ohhh, so she basically reverse grounded her."

“Exiled, yes.”

“Huh." Steven hugs his plush bear in the crook of his arm even tighter, and stares up at the ceiling beams with a concerningly numb expression. "Well... I _guess_ that’s fair.”

Greg frowns.

“What’s eatin’ you up there, bud?”

“It’s just…" He tussles at the top hem of the sheets, his knuckles turning white. "Even though she tried to shatter me, and that was terrifying and all... I could tell she felt really guilty about it right after. And besides that, she was actually super kind. I hope she’ll be alright on her own.”

 _“You’re_ the one who’s super kind,” he says with a soft smile, and reaches out to ruffle his son’s hair. Steven playfully bats his hands away, cheeks flushing at the compliment. “Not everyone your age would ever stop to think about the people who harmed them in that way. Heck, not many adults would, either. I’m not sure I could.”

"But I've also been thinking... Peridot and Lapis tried to kill us when we first met them, too. And now we’re all friends, and it’s fine, right?"

Greg considers this, stroking at his beard. As much as Steven defends their oft-erratic behavior, he's not sure he personally considers those the ex-Homeworld Gems who are bunking in his family's old barn  _friends_ yet. The first time he met Lapis, she attempted to steal the ocean and broke his leg. And as for Peridot, she once pushed him off a roof with next to no warning. (God, he would've broken his leg again if it weren't for Garnet's future vision, huh?) But despite his current opinions on them, it's true that they both have a amicable rapport going with Steven (and for the most part, the rest of the Gems) these days. They've made an effort to learn, to grow with the lush Earth around them. Against the very unmovable nature of their kind, they've succeeded in the impossible. They've changed. 

"So what if we’re being a little too hard on her?" Steven continues, eyes glistening. "What if it pushes her away forever?”

“Mmm. I understand where you’re coming from, but she didn’t just  _try_  to kill you. She almost succeeded. Sometimes there’s such a thing as being too compassionate, you know?” He chuckles, and props himself up on his elbow. “Heh. You really are like your mother, in that way. Y’see, once she told me about the first time she came across a pigeon, and apparently she—“

“Can we please not talk about her right now?” he interrupts, his voice strained.

“S-sure thing,” Greg stutters, mentally smacking himself for not considering the stress the topic of Rose has become for his son before he foolishly ran his mouth. “Sorry, I didn’t think.“

Closing his eyes, Steven snuggles closer to him, scooting under the covers into his arms. “It’s okay,” he whispers, and yawns. “We’re okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for being patient for this update, I had to re-write this based on a fairly significant plot change I decided upon, so that took a while. Also I had a monster midterm to study for and tons of projects and musical tech week, so. Ooof. My draft of chapter six (which is where that plot change begins) is half complete though, which is nice. I've kinda been going back and forth between writing that and this because I had some emotional ideas for it that wouldn't leave me alone. :D
> 
> __
> 
> A few meta notes on this chapter:
> 
> -Amethyst reacts with more vocalized anger to the Pink Diamond bomb here because she has not yet crossed an integral moment of identity building character development- re: Beta/Earthlings. In canon, she tells Steven after A Single Pale Rose that none of the PD/rebellion stuff should even be their problem, and she’s absolutely right, but here I imagine she’s still at the point where she’s internally making it her problem when it doesn’t need to be. So she lashes out. Wrongfully. 
> 
> -Meanwhile, Steven’s Gem self hasn’t reformed yet because he was only just healed from being cracked. I figure that takes a lot outta a Gem. He’ll need a bit more time before he’s ready. 
> 
> __
> 
> Finally, when it comes to the long term plot, I’m very excited to say that I now have this one fully planned out. It’s gonna be a sort of alternate s4, with some original “episodes” and an arc forming the framework of the story. Should be fun. But anyways, your readership and support is so appreciated! From the bottom of my heart, thank you.


	6. Unfamiliar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steven can't sleep.

He doesn’t dare peep at his alarm clock.

Its digital readout glows a soft green in the dark, temping him same as any edible Cookie Cat would, but to no success. He doesn’t sneak a peep because the moment he sees the time, that time becomes real. No longer will he be able to pretend that he’s been staring at the ceiling beams for only a few minutes, or that he’s still got plenty of hours left until morning. Instead he’ll finally have to come to terms with the fact that he’s not getting any sleep tonight. His dad gives a soft snore, laying in a tangle of covers next to him. He’s a known and certified blanket stealer. Not that he minds— he’s cozy enough in his pajamas, and he actually enjoys the rush of cool air over his toes. Unfortunately, that’s the extent of his peace on this particular sleepless night.

He’s long since lost count of how many times he’s tossed and turned, desperately longing for that one perfect position that’ll be the answer to all his problems. The optimum balance of breeze and toastiness! The ideal degree of springy cushioning! But just like a fake identity, the difficult truth is that the answer he seeks doesn’t truly exist. It’s a fabrication. A sham. And try as he will, no amount of misplaced belief will ever change that reality. Elsewhere within the oppressive silence, (or rather what would’ve been silence), every single creak and moan of the house’s foundation is amplified like an electric guitar through an amp. He’s expecting it by now— expecting the dull tick of the wood boards as they warp with the slow change in temperature, expecting his dad’s even snores from beside him— but his nerves are so shot from all the chaos of the evening that he can’t help but seize up with each new noise. It’s just... all too much.

Laying on his mattress as flat as a plank, Steven crinkles his nose with annoyance. He’s not usually the Universe who has trouble falling asleep. That’s Dad’s turf— once he finally gets to dreaming he doesn’t wake even if someone shoves an entire meat lover’s pizza in front of his nose, but arriving there in the first place? That’s an ordeal on its own.

Gosh, he’s so, so tired. A dull ache throbs behind his eyes. In his chest his heart thrums staccato at an identical rhythm, never fully settling down to a resting pulse. It’s been like that ever since Bismuth’s forge, ever since… all the unpleasantness. Distantly he bets that’s because this fully organic body is still trying to compensate for the loss of his gem. He was born with it, after all. That’s like adjusting to everyday life after losing an entire limb. It doesn’t just happen in a day.

He shuffles onto his side once more, his back facing his slumbering dad, and glances longingly at the deep cut pink gemstone that rests on the kitchen counter, swaddled in the folds of a bath towel. Little to his surprise, it’s still as inert as ever. _Is… is that it?_ he wonders. _Steven Universe, former Crystal Gem, forever benched from the team because my gem’s now a glorified paperweight??_

And if it… _he…_ does reform, what then? Can they re-fuse? Are there two Stevens forever? Is he sure that the diamond will actually reform as _him,_ and not as his… not as Rose/Pink Diamond? Will Pearl ever be able to explain why Rose/Pink faked her identity and then lied about it to her own friends for thousands of years? Was his… was Rose Quartz even a good person? Was Amethyst right, did she just create him so she could— questions, questions, questions! Geeze, no wonder he can’t fall asleep. There’s far too much stuff bungling around his head!

Steven crawls out of bed, no longer willing to tolerate the impossible notion of trying to rest. If he can’t sleep, then he might as well sit on the shore to get some fresh air. His feet meet the floor with renewed purpose, and without further ado he begins to gather a few items. First, he swipes his phone off the nightstand and slips it in the pocket of his pajama bottoms. After skillfully avoiding the squeaky step on his way to the ground floor to keep from disrupting Dad’s well-deserved slumber, he crosses to the counter. His gemstone glints in the moonlight shining through the upper window. He purses his lips, deliberating… and then carefully scoops it up in his hands.

“You’re coming with me, little guy,” he whispers to the inanimate Gem, hugging it to his chest. “Who knows, maybe some ocean time will do you some good too!”

Ignoring the fact that he’s basically talking to himself (at least, he thinks he is?), he turns on a dime and prepares to leave. At the door, he slips on the spare pair of flip flops he always leaves by the seat under the window, and then tiptoes outside.

The fresh, crisp breeze dances through his dark curls. He leans against the patio’s railing, lips curving midway into a smile. One of the arms of the Milky Way is visible tonight, dotting the sky with billions upon billions of twinkling stars. Beach City produces minimal light pollution, so thankfully he’s always had a stunning view on their side of the hill. Any other night he’d be delighted to stargaze the night away, wistfully dreaming of stellar horizons far beyond their reach, but his heart’s not into it right now. Insidiously, the gemstone he holds seems to grow heavier as time ticks onward. Against his better wishes his thoughts shift at the reminder. The rest of the Gems never like talking about it, so he can’t pinpoint its location to any degree of accuracy, but somewhere light years beyond this galaxy of theirs sits the Gem Homeworld. Pink Diamond’s origin. This _gem’s_ origin.

And that’s a bizarre thought. Before today he’s always been under the impression that his— his mom was made on Earth, just one of hundreds of Rose Quartz soldiers. Alien, but not wholly extraterrestrial. Now, however...

He stubbornly shakes his head, clearing his mind. Nope, now’s not the time to think about all that. He plods down the stairs to the sand on automatic, the heels of his sandals clapping rhythmically against his feet with each step. Ah, there’s nothing better than the soft squish of sand under flip flops to brighten one’s mood! His eyes briefly flutter shut as he crosses the beach, breathing deep to let that cool, salty air fill his lungs.

Eventually Steven seats himself a fair distance from the cliff, smack dab in the middle of the shore. His flip flops are quickly discarded. Under the stars’ faithful glow he erects a raised mound, and carefully nestles the diamond atop it. With a long, heavy sigh, he flops onto his back. As he does so, the sudden shift in weight distribution paired with the light breeze causes a fine mist of sand to waft into his face. He sputters and spits.

“Euuugh, no, that got in my mouth!” he complains to no one in particular, and shoots upright. He sticks out his tongue and wildly scrubs the remaining grit off. When he’s satisfied he’s no longer swallowing bits of powdered rock his tense shoulders relax.

His glance moves to his gem, still as dull and lifeless as ever.

Another sigh.

“Okay, this is sad.”

The pink diamond glints in the moonlight. He chooses to believe it’s a wink.

“Maybe I can... watch some post midnight TubeTube?” he asks out loud, and pauses.

Besides the constant ebb and flow of the ocean, the beach is unwaveringly silent. He frowns.

“Yeah, that sounds like an excellent idea, Steven!” he chimes in a muffled character voice, and hugs his knees to his chest. “Sheesh, maybe I should’ve just stayed in bed and kept staring at the ceiling after all.”

He shakes his head. No, no… less brood, more Tube. It’s pocket time. He plunges his hand deep in the pocket of his pajamas, in search of his phone. Thankfully it’s not a boundary-less magical dimension like Lion’s mane, he thinks with a laugh, otherwise he’d be in trouble. Then it would really be a ‘pocket dimension!’

He pulls out the phone and switches it on with a flick of his finger. He can’t help but crack a smile upon seeing the lock screen, an older selfie of Connie and him that they took up at the sky arena after practice one day, but that definitely isn’t the headline. His eyes snap wide open as he notices the battery indicator at the top right corner.

_“What??”_ he cries in clear betrayal. “Nine percent?? Aw, dagnabit!”

The sad thing is that this kind of electronic tragedy is not a rare occurrence, not at all. He can’t even count the number of times it’s happened on two hands. Oh, why must he always forget to charge his phone at night? Still, this means that TubeTube is out. Watching videos will drain his battery to zero faster than Amethyst can shovel down an entire gallon of engine oil.

His shoulders slump as he shoves his phone back in his pocket. Mind wandering, he plows his fingers through the sand, gouging deep lines in the damp shore until his knuckles go white.

_“And then, what? She creates you just so she doesn’t have to deal with the fact she’s a liar?”_

He almost feels nauseous. Almost…

(The way his pink double— the fully Gem part of him, the part the gemstone Mom left behind projects— looks at the world when not trapped within emotionless monotony, pale irises burning with an anger he didn’t know he was capable of…)

_“You knew, you knew Rose was Pink Diamond, this whole time!”_

(Other Steven screams _no,_ solid stone fragmenting under his feet. The others quiver as they struggle to remain upright, even Bismuth, a self made Gem warrior. Even Garnet, the most unshakable person he knows.)

But the portrait of Mom that hangs on the wall of his room, its gentle strokes accentuating the rosiness of her cheeks, the softness of her hair… the tape she left behind, spinning loving encouragements recorded specially for him...

_“Maybe she just wanted to be Rose Quartz. Is that so bad?”_

_“Depends on what her motives were,” Garnet replies matter-of-factly, adjusting her opaque glasses._

(The solid weight of the gemstone in his hand as he delicately submerges it under the fountain’s pool, familiar and alien all at once… It’s part of him, right? Has been for all his life. And yet…)

_“-and Pink D’s like, the bad guy, Steven!”_

(For once, Dad becomes his rock amidst the stress of all this Gem business. Steven clutches at his arm, desperately trying to let his dad’s warmth and comfort and perspective soothe his worries.)

_“-despite everything else she probably lied about, her love and respect for all of you was not a sham.”_

He buries his face in his arms, shivering in the throes of the nighttime breeze as its intensity ever so slightly picks up. His teeth chatter, and he shrinks even smaller in defense against the sudden burst of coastal wind. Even his long sleeve pajamas don’t provide much comfort. And because of this, no matter what he tries his mind can’t stop looping back to the deadening sense of cold he felt radiating through his very core when he split apart from his gemstone… how disoriented it left him, unable to focus or even walk for the first few minutes. The scariest part is by far the gap in his memories, from the second that unbearable pain shot through his nerves to the moment he opened his eyes to find himself held aloft in Bismuth’s grasp.

He literally blacked out, in the mercy of someone who hurt him. He was helpless and alone, and in way over his head. This was like the incident with Jasper and the hand ship all over again. He— his bottom lip quivers as he pulls his legs tighter to his chest— he could have... Even in his own head, he can't bear to think the word. It's way too scary. Too real. And now, because he’s separated from his gem, entirely human, no powers at all, he may never get to go on a serious Gem mission ever again. But what bothers him even more than that is...

He peeks out from between his arms, tired, glossy eyes drinking in the sight of that glittering pink gem in the sand.

_Pink Diamond. Rose Quartz..._

Why does there have to be so many contradictions about who Mom was? Why can’t he just know?

_Not a sham,_ one source claims.

_She’s a liar!_ says another.

His heart doesn’t know what to believe anymore.

Steven huffs in frustration, and he crawls on hands and knees to the shallow mound he rest the gem upon. He picks it up, his fingers splaying wide to securely support its full diameter. With a sharp cry of lingering discomfort at the sudden physical exertion, he pushes himself to his feet. The ocean calls him closer, the predictable rhythm of its tides so mesmerizing. Step by step, he emerges from under the temple’s shadow into the full light of the moon.

“Why’d you have to be so secretive about everything, huh?” he asks pointedly, staring daggers at the gem. In the diamond’s mirror-like surface, his hurt scowl is reflected right back at him. “Why’d you have to lie to all your friends? And why did you dump _me_ with all this?”

Not that he expects anything else by this point, but the gemstone remains silent in the wake of his questioning. Funny that, huh. It’s rather reminiscent of some other Gems in his life. He catches a glimpse of the temple statue in the corner of his eye, the face of the fusion carved into the cliffside gazing out at sea impassively in all her monolithic glory. Unchanging in her manner, no matter the centuries long gone.

(Thick ringlets, prominently carved into the cliff face in a way he can’t ignore, not for anything.)

He exhales heavily.

“I just…. wanna know the truth, for once in my life,” he says. “The whole truth, y’know?”

Steven lowers his gaze to the diamond in his hold as he contemplates this desire, and accompanied only by the gentle lull of the ocean, begins to sing a slow melody.

_“I thought I knew,_  
_I thought I saw…_  
_All the writing that you left me on the wall...”_

He takes a breath. Mind overrunning with conflicting ideas and secrets and fourteen year old promises labeled ‘for Steven,’ he turns to face the water, planting his bare feet solid in the damp sand.

_“Through the gem you left behind,_  
_And taped encouragements to find..._  
_Your portrait hanging like a lighthouse on the shore._  
_And all what for?_

_“What do I trust?_  
_What should I say?_  
_Don’t think I know you well enough to feel betrayed…”_

In his hands, he flips the inert gemstone so its five sided facet faces up, obscuring the point below. His brow creases.

_“About the gem you turned to hide,_  
_And how easily you lied…_  
_But after all of this…_

_“Why does the thought of living up to you make me feel small?”_ he asks, his singing voice cracking on the last note. Five fingers grip his pajama shirt tight where normally they’d wrap around the familiar edges of his gem. _“When now I’m not sure you’re worth living up to after all…”_

Far above, a constellation he can’t quite remember the name of twinkles at him.

_“It’s so… unfamiliar.”_

Echoes of recent memory pool around him like mirrors into his past as he drinks in the sight of the night sky. Bismuth’s presentation of the breaking point, their resulting moral disagreement, his mom’s sword lying across the room during the most heated moment of their fight… (If it lay in his reach, could he have done it? Is he even capable of poofing a non-corrupted Gem in self defense?) The memories swirl around him faster now, the breeze picking up. His pink tinted double standing parallel, nothing but his own intuition giving answer as to what the hard-light figure represents. The silent shock drawn across Amethyst’s features at seeing him hurt, wordless but still so tangible and raw. The terror they all felt as his glitching gem self’s scream sent cracks spider webbing through solid rock. Garnet’s instability, the horror of the truth nearly wrenching her apart. Pearl’s hand involuntarily clamping over her mouth. Bismuth’s exile. His dad clutching him to his chest fiercely tight as he drifted to sleep...

The collective weight of the past finally grows too big for him to carry. Brimming with exhaustion, he falls to his knees.

“I wish I knew how to fix this,” he says with a lump in his throat, the lull of the ocean soaking up his hoarse whispers. His thumb glides across the pentagonal facet, right across the length where the crack had been. “I wish Bismuth and I could’ve just talked, that none of this happened in the first place. I- I wish…”

Prolonged exhaustion wringing the strength from his body, he lists forward, pressing his forehead against the diamond’s cool, glassy surface. His eyelids flutter shut. Otherwise unhindered, fresh tears slip from the corners and dampen his cheeks. Steven’s breath shakes as he folds in on himself even more, elbows propped on his thighs.

The wind and waves soak up his cries like an acoustic sponge. And so with no witness, and no awareness of the passage of time, he lets slip the full depth of his jumbled emotions, tears eventually mixing with the messy snot running from his nose. In a comforting way, it’s strangely cathartic. All those unspoken stressors weighing down on him— his status as a Crystal Gem, his mom’s questionable morality, the unshakable memory of his near-death experience— begin to fade into the background as he cries. Things of course won’t instantly become better, but… he still has his friends and family to help him through this, right? Garnet, Amethyst and Pearl, Dad, Connie… Peridot and Lapis… Sadie, Lars… Kiki, Jenny, Buck, and Sour Cream… maybe Onion? He bites back a half hearted laugh upon recalling the surreal evening he spent playing with Vidalia’s youngest a few months back. Okay, so maybe Onion isn't exactly as great a source of support as the others, but the point still stands.

No matter how isolated and lost he feels, he’s far from alone.

Abruptly, a gentle chime interrupts his train of thought. In seconds flat light erupts into his world, soft and pink, so vivid in its glow that it’s visible even between his interwoven eyelashes, sparking a kaleidoscope of color on the backs of his eyelids. He gasps. Eyes opening wide as day, he jolts upright.

The diamond in his hands pulses with life, its glassy surface thrumming under his fingertips. Acting on its own volition, it then lifts out of his grip. For a split second a surge of panic grips him. He claws at thin air, desperately trying to reclaim what’s his, but then… _It’s okay._ He’s okay. He’s seen this, he knows this. Reformation. Steven slumps back in the sand, neck craning to catch a glimpse as his gemstone rises straight up, stretching ever closer to the stars it came from. Perhaps a testament to the raw power contained within, the same breeze that tousles his hair is unable to lay a finger on it.

Transfixed, he watches with mouth agape as the gem pulses a pure white. Radiating outwards from the diamond, a series of forms— one he doesn’t recognize, and two he does— take shape out of light in quick sequence. The first is shockingly tall, at least fifteen feet, and has poofy hair, the gem oriented on its side at her navel. _Pink Diamond?_ he wonders, hating how the thought of that name makes his guts twist and churn with uneasiness. Unfortunately he doesn’t have time to commit her shape to memory. In a flash the diamond rotates, baring its pentagonal facets. At the same time the shifting hard light form collapses in on itself, flaring outwards once more in the unmistakable shape of his mother. His heart hammers in his chest at the sight of her. But then once more, the light collapses back into the gemstone, and weaves back together into a far more compact form... A form he’s intimately familiar with.

With another resonant chime his hard light self bursts into colorful actuality, reformed once more. He’s wearing the same pajamas he himself is currently, except tinted in shades of pink like his skin and hair. The Gem stretches his arms out and allows himself to effortlessly drift downwards, his bare toes making first contact.

Steven’s mouth is still wide open. Suddenly feeling a bit self conscious in the presence of a being who’s so cool and adept he makes floating look like child’s play, (even if technically, that being is supposed to be him), he wipes the streaks of his tears from his cheeks.

“Um… hello,” he says with a small wave.

The other Steven merely acknowledges him with a nod, the motion so subtle that if he wasn’t watching him with such laser focused intent he probably would have missed it altogether.

He chuckles nervously, running a stray hand through the dark curls at the nape of his neck. “So you’re really another version of me then, huh?”

The full Gem doesn’t respond this time. Instead his attention is drawn elsewhere, as he drinks in his surroundings with an empty, impartial gaze. He’s clearly alert and conscious, but there’s no clear sign of emotion in his full pink irises. (His pupils, he notes with alarm, are diamonds.) There’s no point in lying, it’s pretty creepy. Bemused and unsure as to what to do next, Steven presses his mouth taut and sighs, the passing air vibrating his lips. It sounds just like a motorboat engine, and in any other scenario that comparison would make him laugh.

“Hey, I- if you were a sandwich,” he begins lamely, at this point desperate to incite any kind of response from him, “I guess you might say you’re… all Gem, hold the human?”

He throws his arms up in a grandiose shrug, beaming so wide that his cheeks hurt. Once more, other Steven doesn’t utter a word. He doesn’t blink either, which is unnerving in and of itself, but nevertheless he can’t help but feel like he’s being silently judged by this being. His smile recedes.

“Wow, tough crowd,” he mutters under his breath, sweat beading at his brow. “I know it’s not my best joke, but gee, you’d think a hard light projection of me would be a bit more talkative…”

Not sure what else to say for the moment, he shies away from the Gem. Instead, he focuses back on the ocean, on the tides steadily lapping at the shoreline a few feet from where he stands. Steven frowns pensively as he contemplates his current situation, hand balled at his chin. At this point he’s not sure what he expected to happen when he nicked his gemstone to go on a little outdoor adventure, but it certainly wasn’t this. Then again, he’s sure there’s a excusable reason Other Steven is acting all silent and emotionless. Maybe it’s just that… he’s still shell-shocked from almost being shattered. Geeze, that had to have been terrifying!

After a moment of consideration, he decides to approach him in a different way.

“I’m sorry you got cracked. That looked like it really hurt.”

Silence. He feels kinda itchy pinned under his double’s unyielding gaze.

“I mean,” he says with a weak laugh, “that sucked for me, and I didn’t even _have_ my gem at the time.”

At this the Gem’s features shift ever so slightly into an expression suggesting concern. His brow lifts, and his diamond pupils dilate.

This time Steven returns his stare, squinting at him with unveiled curiosity.

“You are able to talk… right?”

“Yes,” he finally replies, as if this is supposed to be obvious fact.

(He has to admit, the sound of his own voice coming from another source in cold monotone kinda gives him the heebie jeebies.)

“Okay, so why—“

“There was no need to.”

He’s about to open his mouth to respond, pointer finger held aloft, when the words building in his mind dissipate like the morning fog that always hugs the docks. How does anyone respond to _that?_ This whole situation— talking to his own Gem— is so strange and surreal that he wishes he wasn’t alone for it. He wishes another of the Gems was here with him, or Connie. At least then it wouldn’t be so awkward.

At the thought of his best friend he gasps, and slams his palms against his cheeks. “Wait! Oh my gosh, I have to take a picture for Connie! It’s not everyday there’s two of me!”

The Gem watches with mild bemusement from the sidelines as Steven whisks out his phone. Running on nothing but a surge of sheer enthusiastic impulse, he swipes to unlock and opens up the camera, poking the tip of his tongue through his lips all the while.

“Okay,” he says, holding the phone at arm’s length in front of the two of them. “Switching to selfie, and… cheese!”

The camera flashes. Eagerly, he taps the screen to look at the photo. In it, he stands grinning like a loon in the foreground, breeze blowing his hair every which way. Behind him, his pink counterpart squints at the burst of light, mouth slightly ajar in blank confusion. It’s by no means a flattering image. All the same, he hums in satisfaction, and decides to use his last few drops of battery life to shoot Connie a quick text.

“By the way,” he dictates as his fingers fly across the phone’s digital keyboard. “Accidentally… got separated… from gem… I’m mostly okay, I think… but now there’s two of me. Say hi to—“ He glances up at the other Steven, who’s watching him with faint intrigue. “Uh… Hey, I just realized I never asked what you wanna be called? I’m sorry, that’s so rude of me!”

The Gem pauses for a moment before responding. “I don’t have any name but ours.”

“O- oh. Well, that’s okay, I’ll just call you that. So gimme the deets, my good twin Steven... “

“I am not a twin.”

“Uh, _Other_ Steven?”

“We are not separate people. I’m a half of a whole, just like you.”

He purses his lips. “Pink Steven,” he suggests, gesturing towards him with his phone in hand.

The hard light version of himself nods in agreement, a stiff solitary action. “That is acceptable.”

He peers close at him for a second, bemused. The Gem doesn’t even noticeably breathe.

“Pink Steven it is, I guess,” he shrugs, and finishes typing his message to Connie. “And, send!”

The text pops up on the screen in a blue bubble, attached alongside the selfie of the two of them. Quickly, he scans back over the message, realizing far too late that he probably should have done that before slamming his thumb on the big red button. His eyes narrow as he reads:

_btw accidentally got separated from gem, mostly okay i think , but now theres two me’s say hi to pink steven! ill call later, some kinda scary stuff happened but gems and i are fine so pls dont worry too much_

“Really, Steven?” he says, exasperation framing his features. “Don’t _worry_ too much? Of course she’s gonna worry!” Voice cracking amidst his melodrama, he captures loose fistfuls of hair from either side of his head, phone still clutched in one hand. “Noooo, why did I write that?”

Steven groans, promptly dropping to his knees, and flops over into the sand like a mannequin with its strings cut. He lays there for a while, absentmindedly nibbling at the inside of his cheek just like he’s chewing over his thoughts. And hoo boy, there sure is a lot to unpack here. Mainly, he spends this time switching between scoffing at his own lack of tact, questioning why his Gem self has to be so darn enigmatic, and dreaming of a better world where his family isn’t crumbling under the weight of a long-kept secret and everything actually makes sense. But in the end he knows there’s no good to be found from silently wallowing about all of this. Instead, he thinks of Garnet, and everything he admires about her. About how despite her ability to trace the paths of potential futures, even she can’t predict every twist and turn of life. Even Garnet is no stranger to the fear of the unknown. The only difference is, she never lets that hinder her. Instead she channels all the the jitters and uncertainty of that fear into something else entirely, lets it empower her to confidently rise to solve the issue at hand.

And sure, he may not be the best leader or fighter or strategist like the rest of the Crystal Gems, but if there’s one thing he’s good at it’s asking questions.

“What you said earlier about… being half of a whole,” he says to his counterpart, sitting up. “What did you mean?”

“You already figured that out,” Pink Steven responds in cryptic monotone.

“Really? I- I did?”

“You already know that I am a hard-light personification of our gem half. I exist in this form because it’s who we are.”

The Gem extends his hand expectantly, as if waiting for him to respond in some specific way. His diamond pupils focus on Steven with an almost pleading intensity.

His brow furrows. He suddenly wishes he could read minds. “What are you—“

_What does he want, a high five, a secret handshake, a—_

“We’re not supposed to be apart like this.”

His eyes widen, suddenly understanding the invitation the Gem’s giving him. “Oh, you want to fuse? But I’m human, I’m not—“ At his sides, his knuckles tighten— “I can’t do that anymore.”

“Not human,” he reminds him with a shake of his head, more feeling present within his voice than he’s heard since his Gem self screamed at Bismuth. _“Half_ human.”

“And you _want_ to fuse with me?”

“Don’t you?”

“Well yeah, of course! But it’s just…” Steven folds his hands together, fingers loosely interlocking. “Doesn’t that make you weaker?”

“I think it makes us stronger.”

This gives him pause. He’s not sure he agrees, or understands why, but regardless he can’t deny the rush of peace it brings him to know that this other half truly wants to be a part of him. Of _them,_ together.

“Okay, I’m in,” he declares decisively, mind set. “I’ll try to fuse with you. But can I maybe ask about a few Gem things, first?”

“I only know what you know.”

“But you’re still another perspective! Looking at stuff from another angle can be really helpful sometimes. It’s just…” Steven trails off, wrapping his arms around himself protectively as if fearing injury from asking this very question. “It’s about my mom. Is she… still in there, somewhere?”

Pink Steven’s frown deepens, ever so slightly. Even if he’s not super emotive, it’s become clear to him that his counterpart still feels things. He just doesn’t express his emotions to the same degree. (Or at least, that’s his theory.)

“She’s gone,” he whispers.

“But you’re sure she’s really—“

_“GONE!”_

“Okay, okay!” he says, holding his hands up. “Touchy subject, I get it. But please don’t wake up the whole town. Or our dad. Sleep’s super important for us human beings.”

“You’re not asleep,” he responds, deadpan.

“That’s— that’s different! I can’t fall asleep in the first place, coz’... well, because of this,” he admits, and gestures awkwardly between them.

He sighs, and shuffles his feet in the sand. There’s still so much he’s aching to ask— _how did we even split so abruptly? Does this mean we’re technically a fusion? How come it took me twelve whole years to summon my shield for the first time, what’s up with that? What Crying Breakfast Friends character do you identify the most as, Sniffling Croissant like me, or are our opinions different on things? Like, do we like the same foods? Do you even eat food?? How the heck did I never notice that my gem is pointy, shouldn’t I have been able to feel that it’s, erm... jabbing into my insides whenever I’m laying down?_— but in the end there’s one that weighs on his mind more than all the others.

“The other thing I’m confused about is… if Mom’s really gone like you said, then why did you almost reform as her?”

“Gemstones retain memory.”

“Oh yeah, Pearl mentioned that once,” he says with a soft smile. “So, then… those are just forms this gem used to take?”

Pink Steven nods in confirmation.

“But Mom’s… soul... is gone forever?”

Another nod.

“Then… it’s just us,” Steven breathes in wonder, the words cathartic the moment they pass his lips into permanence. His eyes grow damp. “Just me.”

At the realization, that shadowy thicket of thorns that’s increasingly entangled itself around his heart for the past few years finally begins to recede.

“Okay,” he says, extending his hand to his Gem counterpart. “I think I’m ready now.”

The moment their fingers brush against each other, strength surges through his body like he’s gasping awake from a disjointed dream, and immediately his baggy, weary eyes snap alert. Hand in hand with his hard-light double, he’s suddenly focused, able, nerves alight with a warmth he never realized until now he missed. A subtle grin curves across Pink Steven’s face in response, vulnerable emotion bursting to life for the very first time.

And as the two of them— human and Gem alike— stand parallel on the shore regarding each other under the constellations’ careful watch, an all-consuming understanding crests over him as solid as the tides are strong.

_I can do it,_ he realizes with glee. _I can actually fuse!_

He can’t help the breathy laugh that bubbles up from within as he clasps his fingers secure around his counterpart’s pink ones. The Gem quickly grows to match him in his joy, and takes lead of their impromptu dance as the two begin to skip and spin across the sand, the ocean’s pulse and the wind’s vibrato acting as their only accompaniment. He’s dead tired, and his muscles still ache beyond belief, but in this blissful moment he finds he genuinely doesn’t care. Not when the breeze is tousling through his curls, and his other half’s eyes don’t look so cold and void anymore, and their steps surge with new confidence with each and every revolution they make. Not when there’s so much magic to be found in this world. So much hope, even despite the bad days. No more lies, he promises himself, no more thoughts of despair. No holding back. In a heartbeat the spinning world tints bright pink around them. Beaming, he throws his head back right as his vision blurs to white, the fathomless night sky the last thing he sees with fully human eyes.

Steven Universe, whole and uncracked once more, emerges from fusion’s pure glow.

He gasps for breath upon finally reforming, teetering and stumbling a few steps as he regains his sense of balance. Experimentally, he wiggles his toes against the cool sand, reveling in the way the granules tickle the bottoms of his feet, and laughs in sheer relief. Every stimuli is a thousand times more vivid now. The crisp wind dancing against the nape of his neck, the crash of the tides upon the shore echoing through his ears with a percussive strength… When he inhales, he inhales deep and strong, filling his lungs entirely with the fresh salty air. Now in one piece again, he suddenly feels more connected to his gem than ever. There’s a comforting thrum running parallel with his human veins, one he’s grown used to feeling whenever he summons his bubble or shield, except now it seems to be a constant presence. _Channels of hard light,_ his mind excitedly supplies, recalling Pearl’s lessons. _Just like a Gem circulatory system!_

He breathes in deep again, grounding himself. He splays both arms outward, focusing upon the thought of self preservation. In a flash, the familiar sheen of his pink bubble blooms around him. Steven grins so wide his cheeks almost ache. He allows the bubble to drop, and next aligns his emotions with the idea of protection. His shield, forged of solid light and etched with rosy thorns, immediately materializes in front of his outstretched arm. It’s absolutely effortless, more so than ever before. Giddy in all the joy of being whole again, he dissipates the shield and launches himself high into the air. He’s giggling breathlessly by the time he begins his slow descent. For a blissful moment, every other stressful thing in the world disappears, and it’s just he, himself, and the glittering night sky. Far above, Ursa Minor winks at him. He blows the cosmos a kiss, eyes filled with stars.

Gently, his bare feet touch down on the shore.

For a moment he doesn’t budge an inch, doesn’t make a sound, as if he’s waiting for reality to pull the rug from under him. It all seems too idealized, too lucky. And yet— as he stands idle in the moonlight, fully alert and able— clearly it’s not. Beaming from ear to ear, he takes off running across the beach. As a testament to his sheer joy, his toes leave the ground behind again as he cartwheels.

...well, tries to cartwheel. Just because he’s more integrated with his gem doesn’t mean he’s any more graceful. He’ll leave the grace to Pearl and Connie.

His hands don’t hit the ground at the appropriate angle, and as a result he flips on end and lands face first, getting a mouthful of sand for all his troubles.

He spits as much of it out as he‘s able. “Euughhh, not again!” he says, although this time there’s renewed humor in his voice.

Steven rolls onto his back, and it’s then that he realizes, heart sinking low in his chest… that something feels different. He’s not sure why he didn’t notice it before. The unfamiliar way its weight settles, the distinct difference in shape that he only noticed when lying flat on his belly...

Hand quivering, he lifts his pajama shirt to check, and...

“W-wait, wha—!?”

The gemstone embedded flush at his navel is not his.

Well, it _is,_ since obviously he fused with it and can summon his shield, but it’s certainly not the pentagonal cut he remembers. Instead, the entire gem has somehow rotated on its side, exposing the facets previously hidden from view. He slowly traces his fingers along its edges. How could a gem just flip like that? This never happened when any of the other Gems reformed, so why did it happen here, now?

_No more lies..._

Was it because of what he was thinking when he fused? Before Pink Steven reformed he briefly saw an outline of Pink Diamond, and her gem was flipped on its side too. But could subconscious thought really influence gemstone position like that?

He frowns pensively, and drops the bottom hem of his shirt. Like it or not, it seems this’ll be yet another change he’ll have to grow used to. _That they’ll all have to grow used to,_ he amends, realizing that there’s no way the other Gems wouldn’t notice. His eyes droop, his earlier burst of adrenaline beginning to run him into the ground. How late is it again? Oh, right. He doesn’t know.

Yawning, Steven picks himself to his feet, retrieves his flip flops, and begins his hike up the sandy path to his house. He rests his palm upon the newly exposed facets of the diamond in his belly, still somewhat dazed by everything that’s recently come to pass, and truthfully he can’t help but feel as if he’s encroaching upon a brand new chapter of his life. Where tomorrow, or the next day, or the weeks to come will lead him is a cosmic mystery only Garnet could dream of halfway answering. But in this very instant, at least he can say he's whole again.

Maybe now he’ll finally be able to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tl;dr half Gem/half human Steven is finally back after six chapters, but his gem flipped on its side upon reforming. It's now oriented like Pink Diamond had it. 
> 
> -
> 
> Hooo boy, folks, here we go. Took a while, but we're finally here. Writing this one was a struggle because it's basically a linchpin chapter... it sets up a whole bunch of important plot arc stuff. I apologize for how long this update took, but because of that I really wanted to put time into getting it right. (Also I think this is the single longest chapter of anything I've ever written... 6.7K words!! that 'Tale of Two Stevens' scene just kept growing longer and longer. By now I've come to accept that I don't control Steven when I write for him- he controls himself, ahahah.)
> 
> I wrote the song in this chapter weeks ago, way back when I was still pedaling through chapter two- and I've actually recorded it a capella, if anyone wants to hear the melody! [It's here!](https://crack-the-paragon.tumblr.com/post/184890742810/kinda-a-sneaky-peek-here-this-a-fan-song-i-wrote) Feel free to check it out!
> 
> Thank you once more for all the support! I have to say, I always love seeing all the clever meta some of you have been discussing in the comments- as a writer, it's always so encouraging to see people paying close attention to the details.


	7. Silenced

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which actions speak louder than words.

_“Are you out of your mind??”_

_"Pearl, please understand, I’ve been wanting this for so long,” you explain softly, the sunset illuminating the face of the pale Gem before you in shades of pink and orange as the waves crash onto shore behind her. “Human life is simply incredible! Never stagnating, always living, and loving, and learning. I want to pass on my gem, to create something new with Greg, someone who can grow! Someone… who can finally be free.”_

_“But- but Gems can’t have babies!” she sputters, throwing her arms out. “We don’t have the organs for it, or genetic material, o-or—“_

_You shake your head, enthusiastically cutting her off._

_“That’s no problem, I used shapeshifting like Amethyst always does! And believe me,” you say with a conspiratorial chuckle, “you know better than anyone that I’m fully capable of holding this for the next nine months.”_

_“That’s not my point!”_

_“Then… what is?”_

_“My point—! You always_ _do_ _this, Rose!” she shouts, her pale blue eyes growing damp. “You know I try to support you, but I can’t do that if you never talk with me before leaping headfirst into whatever fanciful desire you please, and- and deciding everyone’s future for them!”_

_“But isn’t that… what I’m doing now?”_

_“No! You never even asked me how I’d feel,” she says, voice thick. “And that’s your problem.” Tears stream in rivulets down her cheeks, her lithe body quivering. Roughly, she wipes them away, and turns to escape your presence. “You never do!”_

* * *

 

_“Where did it go??”_

The sound of shrill panic abruptly wakes Steven, the precise details of his peculiar dream already beginning to blur into obscurity as his eyes flutter open. A line of half-dried drool, slimy and still warm, extends from the corner of his mouth. His dad is softly snoring next to him, swaddled in his stolen covers like the very image of a sushi roll. 

“No, no, _no!”_ Pearl shouts from the kitchen. There’s a dull clap as her hand swipes across the counter. Something light (cloth?) falls to the floor. “This can’t be happening, not now, not again!!”

Yawning, he presses his fingers against the slight ache at his temple and sits up, blinking in confusion at his surroundings. “Wha—?”

For whatever reason, the beach house has devolved into absolute chaos between the time he fell asleep and now. The couch cushions are all askew, one of them flung halfway across the room. Two of the kitchen stools are overturned, and the bath towel they nestled his gem in last night lays in an abandoned heap between them. Dishes from the open cabinets are strewn everywhere on the counters. Meanwhile, the contents of the game shelf by the window— which Pearl normally keeps meticulously organized in alphabetical order— have exploded across the floor with little to no regard to the walking hazard they pose. If her intent was to blow through the place like a one person wrecking ball, then she’s clearly succeeded. No corner of the house is left untouched by her mania. The Gem roughly swings open the fridge, rattling the condiment bottles in the door. After a brief pause to scan through its contents she huffs, and slams it shut again. 

Her arms shaking, she grips tufts of wispy peach hair from either side of her head. “Where _is_ it???” she cries, her voice edging towards borderline hysteria. 

“Uh, Pearl?” he asks, uneasiness churning in his gut at the sight of his guardian under so much stress. He swings his feet over the edge of his bed. “Pearl! What’s going on? What’s wrong??”

She freezes momentarily upon noticing he’s awake, her cheeks flushing blue.

“O-oh! Thank goodness you’re finally up,” she says, bounding across the room and up the stairs to him in no more than five steps. Her hands grasp his shoulders, a frantic gleam in her pale eyes. “Steven, where’s your gem?! Have you seen it??”

“My… gem?” he mutters, scrunching his nose as he peers up at her. In the fog of his exhausted, sleep deprived mind, for a second he has no idea what on Earth she’s talking about. Where’s his _gem?_ His gem’s at his navel, inlaid flush with his skin like it’s always been, so what is she—

In a flash, snippets of recent memory eclipse everything else that’s at the forefront of his attention, reasserting their place in his psyche.

_“Go ahead!” Bismuth snarls, jamming the tip of the breaking point rough against her concave gemstone. “Just do it!”_

_A sharp cry, his world standing still as a searing pain tears through him from the gem at his core to the very tip of his extremities._

_Too damaged to sustain himself, his hard light form poofs into a cloud of smoke. He remembers this from both perspectives, now. And with the memory of the sheer agony his other half was in… he wishes he doesn’t. The cracked gemstone hangs in the air for just a moment, morning sunlight glinting off its facets, before plummeting lifeless to the ground._

_“—it’s Pink Diamond,” Garnet whispers in horror._

He swallows hard as the burden of the last few hours quickly rears its ugly head, weighing down once more on his shoulders. _Oh, right,_ he thinks, resting his hand atop his stomach, over the unfamiliar facets of his newly flipped gem. _Losing my gem. That was a thing that happened._

“Yes, your gem, I’ve been looking everywhere for it!” Pearl says, throwing her arms up. She leaps to the ground floor from the lofted level, and with a skip and a flourish so unbefitting of her current state of panic, jabs her pointer finger towards the kitchen counter. “I clearly remember setting it right here when we put you to bed, but now it’s nowhere to be found!”

Her words degrade to incomprehensible mumbling as she continues her fruitless search, this time localized to the space around the fireplace and the bathroom door. Finally understanding what has her in such a tizzy, Steven leaps to his feet and follows her down the stairs. Of course she’s freaking out, she thinks his gemstone disappeared entirely, or walked off, or got stolen! She has no way of knowing what happened on the beach early this morning. No one does. Someone’s gotta tell her, and that someone can only be him. Rushing to his guardian, he gently tugs at her arm.

“Pearl!”

She forces a laugh, the sound of it neurotic and unhinged, as her fumbling fingers remove a small photo of the four of them off its hook on the wall. “Well at least we can say for certain it’s not hiding behind this framed photograph!” she announces, smile stretched just a bit too wide. “Just one less infinite possibility to check…”

“Pearl, listen, you—“

“And it’s not like it could simply _roll_ off the table without a trace, right? Am I right??”

“Please, you don’t have to freak out, ‘cause I—“

“But it’s okay Steven, there’s no need to panic! I know we’ll find it eventually, yes we will, of _course_ we will, how could we—“

“I have it!” he blurts out, grabbing both of her shaking hands. _“I_ have it.”

Held securely in his, her hands fall silent. The panic drains from her in but a breath as she stops to contextualize what he’s just said and what it means, her mouth slipping slightly ajar. Sensing that he’s firmly caught her attention now, he continues, heart hammering in his chest.

“Last night, the gem reformed as me, a-and… we fused back together.”

“You— you’re back to normal,” she says with glassy eyes, voice softer now. 

He tugs at the collar of his pajamas. “Well, more or less. There’s a bit of a catch, and I’m pretty sure none of you are gonna like it.”

Her expression is blank with confusion. “Uhhh— a _catch?”_

“Y’know, it’s probably easier if I just show you,” he reasons with a nervous chuckle, and— sweat beading on his forehead— lifts his nightshirt to reveal his gem.  

Pearl kneels down to peer at it straight on, hand balled into a fist at her chin. “Oh!” she says first, brows shooting up on her face. Then, her features narrowing the more and more she looks at the newly exposed facets of his diamond: _”Ohhhh...”_

“This is what her gem looked like, isn’t it?” he asks. “Pink’s?” 

Her eyes shoot wide open at his query. “I—“

Immediately, her palm clamps tight over her mouth, strangling whatever words she had planned to share. 

Steven cringes as he watches her struggle against her orders, a seed of guilt churning deep within. “Oh, right. You can’t… sorry, I forgot. We can talk about something else, if you want!”

She’s thankfully able to pull her hand away before too long. A distant part of him wonders how this gag order works, how it knows in advance what Pearl plans to say, if there’s any loopholes they could possibly find to skirt around it... 

“I— I’d appreciate that,” she admits, suddenly looking very tired. 

A lopsided smile brightening her face despite her exhaustion, she reaches up to affectionately ruffle his hair. He flashes her a boyish grin as her touch flattens some of his wild curls against his head. 

“You know,” she says quietly, glancing at him with such a softness reflected in her pale irises that it almost makes him forget all the stress he’s endured, almost makes him believe nothing’s changed since yesterday, “there may be a lot I can’t talk about, but what I _can_ say is that I’m so glad to see your beautiful smile again.”

 _“Pearl,”_ he responds, blushing with half-hearted embarrassment.

“Now let’s clean up this mess before your father wakes up, shall we?” the pale Gem chuckles nervously as she rubs her hands together, glancing between the trashed ground floor of the beach house and the middle aged man miraculously still snoozing away in the loft above. 

“Nose-goes on kitchen!” he says hurriedly, tapping his finger against the tip of his nose. 

She feeds him a mock gasp, already crossing behind the counter to start returning the plates and glasses to their rightful homes in the cabinet. “Oh, you rascal! How ever will I organize all this by myself?”

Steven gives a soft laugh at this, and then promptly sets himself on tidying duty. First priority are the board games strewn across the floorboards in the corner. He kneels and begins arranging the boxes into piles. From there, he stacks each pile nice and near on the shelf by the window. After straightening the stacks so the box corners line up, he moves to pull open the blinds to let more sunlight in the house. A blissful smile stretches across his face as he pauses his work to bask in the morning glow. 

Already feeling a good deal more content about everything in the reminder of daybreak, he turns to Pearl. “Not gonna lie, I’m kinda surprised Dad was able to stay asleep through all our racket.”

“Greg?” she scoffs and rolls her eyes, piling a stack of plates on one of the shelves. “That man sleeps like a rock. Which,” she continues, resting her freed hand against her chin in contemplation, “as an idiom, is actually rather ironic considering that ‘rock’ is common slang for ‘Gem,’ and Gemkind as a whole doesn’t have a physiological need for sleep.”

“Well, I think you can blame humans for that one,” he laughs, picking the missing couch cushion off the floor and returning it to its home. “For anyone outside Beach City, rocks don’t actually move!”

Ever so slightly, the edge of her lips turn up. “I suppose that’s true, yes…”

They fall into a fairly comfortable silence for a while after that, as they put the finishing touches on the last nooks and crannies of the beach house that needed attention. Steven makes sure the floor is spotless, every stray pillow, toy, or decorative item returned to its rightful place. Pearl finishes tidying the kitchen, re-organizing the cups on the shelves by color and type. By the end of it he can proudly say the place looks leagues cleaner than it did yesterday. For good measure, Pearl pulls a broom out of her gemstone and sweeps up any debris littering the floor. He helps out by holding the dustpan steady as she brushes the sand and dust bunnies in. 

“There!” she proclaims once they’re finished, proudly surveying her roost as she solidly holds the broom with the same level of decorum with which one might hold a rebellion era rampart. “That’s much better, don’t you think?”

The ground nearly shimmers in its cleanliness. Heartily, he gives her a thumbs-up.

“Yeah, looks great!”

With a big yawn, he glances up at his father’s slumbering figure in the loft above, for a moment jealous that he’s not still snoozing away too. Four or five hours (or however long it’s been since he crawled back into bed, he hasn’t checked the clock yet) simply isn’t enough rest for a growing boy. He always tries to aim for eight or nine. Maybe he can bridge that gap now, though? Would it help, he wonders, if he falls back asleep a good twenty minutes after he woke? As he ponders this mystery, he ambles past Pearl, heading directly to the couch.

“Steven,” she says with poorly disguised concern, as she watches him abruptly flop over onto the cushions in his sheer exhaustion. “If you need to talk about what happened, then I—“

“I’m just a little tired, don’t worry about me,” he says, eyes drooping shut as he curls up tighter.

“Don’t wor—“ Pearl cuts herself off suddenly, choked up. She’s at his side in a flash, and he feels the cushion adjust for her weight as she sits herself adjacent. “How can I _not_ worry about you? You went through something no child… no _Gem_ should ever have to experience!”

“But I’m alive,” he points out, eyes cracking open a smidge. “I’m alive, and you guys dealt with Bismuth, a-and we fixed it like we always do, so- so there’s no point in fixating on what could’ve happened, right?”

She rests her hand on his shoulder, her fingers hesitantly shifting over the seam of his pajamas as if she’s suddenly a complete stranger to the art of comforting. Normally he lives for her shows of affection— her occasional head pats, loose side hugs, a hand clasped tight on his arm as she gently leads him through hazardous terrain on missions— but in his mounting desire to be left alone in peace to rest, he bristles under her touch. She doesn’t seem to catch onto the hint, though. Still hidden behind his neutral expression, he grits his teeth.

“I-it’s not a matter of fixation,” she continues, “it’s a matter of unpacking difficult emotions. You have to understand, the state of being cracked, it’s not one that most full Gems are easily able to bounce back from, and I just want to ensure that you’re not—“

“I’m fine, really, I am!” he snaps. “You don’t have to keep fussing about it! And anyways, it’s all over now, isn’t it? So can’t we at least try to move on from this and let things be halfway _normal_ again?!”

Pearl reacts like she’s been physically struck. She yanks her hand back, resting her palms on her knees as she turns her head away. A cautious glance at her face (or at least the half she hasn’t intentionally obscured from his sight) shows one muddled with a blend of melancholy and that sort of silent displeasure he’s long since grown to associate with disappointed parents. He swallows hard, shame settling heavy like the diamond at the pit of his stomach. He went too far. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles as he sits upright, cheeks heating up. He stares at his fingers, rhythmically flexing them. 

She doesn’t vocally respond to his apology, but her form does grow visibly less tense. It’s a start.

Fully audible through the walls of the house, the tides crash onto shore, gently pulsing in and out. It doesn’t take long before the pace of his heart matches the ocean’s unwavering drumbeat. His naive young mind twitchy under the throes of the unnatural silence, he yearns for some concrete image to latch onto, anything to spirit him away from the present. Not before long, distant threads of memory from the strange dream he woke up from this morning rise to meet his pleas.

Most of the details are fuzzy, indistinct and abstract as one might expect from a dream, but nevertheless just enough specificity remains that he can’t help but wonder if this was more than your run-of-the-mill moonlight fantasy. Frowning pensively, he balls his hand against his chin. The sky was streaked with lines of pink and orange, he remembers. The tides swelled with the same unwavering prowess as they do this morning. He knows he was standing somewhere near the temple, because he clearly saw one of the stone hands half-buried on the sandy shore. A familiar ivory and peach figure stood defiant and distraught before him— no, not him!— before his…

 _“You always_ _do_ _this, Rose!”_

His hands. They were wide, pale, free of the familiar calluses built up from years of plucking strings on his ukulele, they… they weren’t his. This _body_ wasn’t his. 

 _Mom._ He was dreaming about his mom. But why, and _how?_ He’s had dreams with her in them before, but they were always different, they were always from his perspective. They were always fluid and nonsensical. This, however… this one felt different, somehow. More tangible.

Almost… real.

_“You never even asked me how I’d feel,” Pearl said, voice thick. “And that’s your problem. You never do!”_

Realization dawns over him like the glow of the morning sun rising above the horizon. A sudden sickness churns in his stomach. He’s almost horrified, disgusted with his past actions in rudely brushing Pearl off like that. 

 _She just… wants to know how I feel about all this,_ he thinks, throat constricting as he swallows hard. _She wanted to know if I’m okay! But- is she even okay??_

Is there more to this dream of his than meets the eye? Is his subconscious trying to tell him something, trying to lead him to take some sort of action? Have they really not asked her that enough?

His fingers drum against his leg as he gathers the nerve to speak again. 

“Hey...”

“Yes?” Pearl says quietly, tone clipped. She’s still glancing out the window, turned away from him. 

“How are _you_ handling all this? Everything’s suddenly so different, and…” He grips the fabric of his pajama bottoms, his eyes burning hot. “I know you can’t say much about it, but I just wanna make sure you’re doin’ okay too.”

She finally meets his glance, her gaze glassy and wet. Her bottom lip quivers, so subtle he almost doesn’t pick up on it. In all the time he’s lived with her, he's not sure he’s ever seen her so vulnerable, and the sight of it drives a razor sharp point right through his heart. He takes a deep, grounding breath, and continues.

“And I want you to know I don’t blame you for this,” he reassures. “Even if you couldn’t tell us anything, that’s not your fault.”

“Thank you,” she says, her voice breaking.

“If there’s stuff I can do to make things easier, let me know?”

Her ice blue irises skate upwards as she deliberates, desperately grasping for an answer to his open ended question. Steven clasps his hands together in his lap, and simply waits in silent patience. His legs dangle back and forth over the edge of the couch. 

Pearl sighs, her long suffering exhaustion evident. “If, in the future, you could avoid asking probing questions about your mother or abo- about my past on Homeworld, that would be a great help.” She presses her thumb and forefinger firm against her forehead, right under her gem. “It’s… painful, suffice it to say, when programming kicks in. And to answer your first question, I’m honestly trying not to think about any of it too much. Like you, it would seem,” she adds with a bit of a mirthful chuckle. “I can’t claim it’s good advice, but that’s where I’m at.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats with a sniffle, leaning into her shoulder.

Tenderly, she wraps her arms around him and nestles her cheek against his mop of curly hair. It’s a blissful comfort, a wordless promise that more than anything else makes him feel safe. Secure.

“So am I,” she whispers, a tear slipping down her cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two more chapters, and this fic will officially be done with its set-up! Chapter six was really, really dense in terms of setting up plot elements for future events, but this one and the next two definitely also have their important details. Goodness gracious am I excited for what's coming up next.
> 
> As for notes:
> 
> -I have a headcanon that Rose took ages to reform after Pearl staged her "shattering," and in the midst of that Pearl had to go into hiding with her gem so the Crystal Gems didn't learn their secret. During that, I imagine she probably lost Rose's gem at least once, and almost had the Gem equivalent of a heart attack. Which is why she's flipping out so much about it happening again, with Steven.
> 
> -I hc that Steven doesn't actually upset Pearl too often, out of the three main CGs. When she _does_ get especially upset though, she's the type to give the icy silent treatment.


	8. Fissures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which together breakfast can’t mend everything.

In time, the rest of the household bursts to life.

His dad wakes up an hour or so later on his own accord, rolling out of bed and groggily stumbling into the bathroom to soak in the shower for a solid twenty minutes. Steven eagerly shares the good news— _I’m whole again!—_ after he finally emerges, and while it takes a fair moment for his still half-conscious mind to fully grasp what he’s attempting to explain, when the message finally lands Dad lifts him off the floor and spins him around in his arms, laughing with joy. Compared to Pearl, his reaction to the gem’s rotation is minimal, which comes as a sweet relief. 

“I’m just glad to see ya’ smiling and in one piece again,” he says, holding him close.

After sharing an amicable nod of greeting with Pearl, his dad sets out from the house to check on his van, promising he’ll be back in a few minutes. Apparently he needs to lock it, because he totally forgot last night. _Again._ Also, he did say he’d grab the waffle iron before he went to bed, so fingers crossed for that. Steven’s mouth waters at the mere thought of Dad’s homemade waffles, golden, crisp, and stacked sky high, their flavor— buttery, with a hint of lemon zest— bursting like fireworks against his tongue. Nobody makes waffles like he can, not even Pearl. While waiting for Dad to return with breakfast materials, he changes into clean jeans and a shirt. Lazily, he flops onto his belly on the couch with plans of playing Splashy Shark on his phone, only to find...

Steven groans, dropping his head face first into the middle of the cushion. His phone’s battery is so low it won’t turn on at all. Dead as a doorstop! It seems he forgot to plug it in before falling asleep once more, for the umpteenth thousandth time, even though he tried to remind himself early this morning on the beach. Typical. 

“Is the world ending again over there?” Pearl— currently lounging at the kitchen counter— asks with a playful lilt to her voice. “Do we need to call in the rest of the resistance?”

“Noooo, it’s fine,” he replies, drawn out. “This is a path I must walk alone, for I’m the lad who forgets.” He rolls over onto his back, stretching his free arm towards the ceiling as if desperately reaching towards the stars. “And to forget is the dark burden I bear,” he whispers dramatically.

“You didn’t plug your phone in last night, did you?”

“Whoa, how’d you guess??”

“Steven, you do realize I’ve lived with you for almost three years, yes?”

“Oh,” he says, brows shooting up. “Right!”

Humming, he pulls himself off the couch and trots up the steps to the loft. He sets his phone on his nightstand and connects it to the charge cord. Unfortunately, it'll take a while for it to build up enough juice to turn on again. That’ll teach him. Or maybe it won’t, time will tell. He hopes it won’t be out of commission for too long, though, because he really should call Connie about all this…

The temple door begins to open. He rapidly turns upon hearing that familiar sound, just in time to see Amethyst emerging from the depths of her room. Her hair is a mess, her eyes droop in exhaustion, and for a moment one of her fingers digs halfway up her nose. More than anything, she looks like she needs a great big hug. 

“Hey,” she mutters, and yawns. “Any word on ol’ Steven 2?”

“Amethyst, Amethyst, _Amethyst,”_ he hollers, beaming from ear to ear, and leaps from the loft to greet her. He doesn’t even bother floating, with no need for a soft landing from this height. The impact of his bare feet against the floorboards reverberates through the whole house. “Guess what??”

He flings himself around the purple Gem, almost knocking her clear over in the shock of surprise affection. (Although by this point, if she’s not used to his hug attacks that’s her problem.) 

“Uhhh, what?” she says, face blank even in the wake of his effervescent enthusiasm. 

Pearl’s hands go to her hips. “Steven, what have I told you about jumping from the loft?

“I’m the full package again,” he declares, and throws his arms wide, pointedly ignoring her for the moment. “My gem reformed and then we fused!”

Despite her low energy otherwise, Amethyst cracks a grin at his good news. “Whoa, really? When was this?”

“This morning! I was up super early. Couldn’t sleep.”

“Sheesh. You and me both, bud.”

“At least you don’t actually need to sleep. Lucky.” 

“Yeah, but I’ve been making a habit of it for so long that _not_ sleeping pretty much has the same affect,” she says, and crosses to sit on the couch. She stretches back, body sinking into the familiar curves of the cushion she always claims. She props one of her hands behind her mass of lavender hair. “Ah, that’s more like it! So… after everything,” she begins cautiously, balling the other hand up against her gemstone, right against the facet she herself cracked about a year and a half ago. “How do you feel now?”

He shrugs one shoulder, the corner of his mouth twisting upwards. “Okay, I guess. I’m in one piece, but… everything’s different now, y’know? Even though I don’t want it to be.”

Her expression grows more downcast, the fringe of her hair shadowing her features. “Yeah.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Steven catches Pearl watching their conversation from the kitchen. It’s painfully obvious she’s trying to keep her dutiful surveillance on the down-low, her side glances interspersed with time spent washing raspberries and gathering waffle ingredients for his Dad, but he doesn’t get why this secrecy is necessary on her part. It’s not like they’re _not_ openly discussing this in the middle of the house. If he and Amethyst really wanted to talk privately they’d wander outside, or into her room. Nonetheless, there’s nothing he could say that Pearl hasn’t already heard. 

Although now that he thinks about it, there’s plenty of stuff he hasn’t told Amethyst yet. He purses his lips, unable to shake the thought of her visceral reaction to the reveal about his mo— about _Rose—_ that dropped like an anvil on their family last night. With that in mind, how will she respond to the permanent visual reminder of this change that he now embodies?

With a quick glance between Pearl and the doorway his dad left through, his mind is made. If he isn’t forthright now, she’ll find out eventually. He figures it’s better she hears it from him rather than through the grapevine. 

“Y’know, I should probably mention,” he says with a half laugh. “My gem did a bit of a weird thing. It kinda… flipped?” To prove his point, Steven lifts up the hem of his t-shirt, barring the diamond for all to see.

Amethyst squints as she peers at his gem. “What the fu—“

 _“Amethyst,”_ Pearl interjects sternly, crossing towards the pair of them.

 _“—uuuuuudge_ is that? Gems can do that??”

She rolls her eyes. “Somehow I doubt that every Gem can—“

“Oooo, lemme try!” she gleefully squeals, leaping to her feet in one bound and throwing her arms aloft.

Her gemstone begins to glow a soft purple as the finer details of her form blur into an indistinguishable mass of light. The edges of this light bend and wobble, and she seethes in intense concentration, but despite her efforts her gemstone refuses to budge.

Gasping for breath, her hard light form snaps back into its customary shape like a rubber band. The light fades, revealing her scowl. “Aww man, no fair! Everyone else gets all the cool powers.”

“Haha, well I didn’t exactly do it on purpose,” Steven says, shrugging nonchalantly. 

The screen door slams open, prompting everyone in the room to sling their attention to the man standing tall and proud with the cast iron kitchen appliance brandished like a sword in his hands. 

“Who’s excited for _waffles??”_ he asks, his grin contagious. 

Steven shoots his hand in the air. “Oooh, me, me! _I’m_ excited for waffles!”

“Then guess today’s your lucky day,” he chuckles, moving across the house to the counter. “Pearl, ‘ya wanna help a man out here?”

“Ah, yes!” she chimes, raising en pointe as she triumphantly jabs her finger in the air. “Of course! I’ve even taken the liberty of gathering the ingredients for you already.”

Dad stutters for a moment, clearly not expecting this turn of events considering her former animosity towards him. Their family trip to Empire City— the night the tides forever changed— wasn’t that long ago, after all. He threads anxious fingers through a thick length of hair. 

“Wow, you, uh- thank you.”

Steven follows them to the kitchen area, stars in his eyes as he rapturously watches their amicable interactions. Showcasing a surprising capacity for teamwork, they set up the waffle iron and start to prepare that gooey, delicious batter. His mouth waters at the mere scent of the lemon his dad squeezes into the bowl. Acting on unspoken impulse, Pearl grabs a whisk and accepts the bowl from him, beating the mix of ingredients until it’s reached the perfect consistency. The tastiest pancakes and waffles come from batter that’s still a little lumpy, his dad always says, since that causes them to rise better. In any case, his taste buds can hardly wait. 

“I’m so hungry I think I could eat like, four bazillion waffles,” he tells Amethyst in the most candid voice he can muster, relocating to the couch she’s lounging on with a hop and a skip.

“Heh,” she says, a suitably up-to-no-good smirk framing her face. “Not if I get to all of ‘em first!”

“Whaaat? Naw, come on, you wouldn’t do that to your favorite Steven!”

“Are you kidding? I’d steal food from myself! _After_ I swallowed it.”

“Ewww,” he laughs, his nose scrunching up. 

They continue to laugh together for a solid few seconds, but the enthusiasm holding their facades together so precariously soon fades. Meanwhile, in the background Dad and Pearl converse as easily as if they’d never carried a decades-long feud to begin with. (Oh, the sweet irony of this reversal!) Steven clamps his lips together, for once clueless what to say to Amethyst to make everything better. Their conversations aren’t usually like this. They aren’t so… stilted, like he has to traverse across a lake of thin ice. He sighs, feeling his chest rise and fall with a weight almost heavier than the memory of the last few hours. That’s the one thing he fears most, if he’s honest about all this— that as a consequence of the mess Rose left him, his relationships with the Gems will never be the same again. 

He can only guess Amethyst heard his sigh, because she’s the one who first moves to break the silence.

“Hey, uh,” she begins quietly, and shoots a quick glance at Pearl, meeting her eyes briefly before looking back at him. “I’m sorry for… well, everything, really. That I said last night.”

He frowns, the memory of her words’ sting suddenly looping itself in his mind like a broken record.

 _“And then, what? She creates_ _you_ _just so she doesn’t have to deal with the fact she’s a liar?”_

“Oh. You, uh,” he scratches at the back of his neck, “you don’t need to apologize for that. We were all pretty stressed, I get it.”

“No. I do!” she insists, her expression stretching wide. “What I said, it wasn’t just mean, it was _wrong._ Like, I still feel like I don’t know anything about Rose, or Pink, or whatever anymore, okay? But just because _I_ don’t get anything doesn’t make you— gah, forget it,” she says hurriedly, waving the thought away. “The point is, I’m sorry, y’know? For real.”

The earnesty of her apology covers his wounds like a salve. Blinking heavily, he throws his arms around her, burying his face into her hair. 

“Apology heartily accepted,” he says, muffled. 

The stiffness in her form eases up, and she finally, truly allows herself to hug him back. 

“Thanks, dude.”

From that point forward, the atmosphere of the house grows lighter. No longer needing to worry about the state of his relationship with Amethyst, Steven throws himself into the nuttiness and excitement of family time feet first. The two of them horse around while Dad and Pearl continue making breakfast, wrestling each other in front of the warp pad. It doesn’t take long for a stack of waffles to pile up on the counter, cooked to a golden brown perfection. Catching his breath from all the play fighting, he eagerly rushes to sit himself at the counter next to the purple Gem, empty plate and utensils already set in front of them. His legs freely dangle, not long enough yet to reach the foot rest midway down the stool. He’s not paying attention to hear it, but his dad must have said something witty because Pearl is chuckling breathlessly. It’s probably one of his corny dad jokes. Pearl will never admit it, but she has a secret sweet spot for his puns.

The temple door slides open— a rush of slightly stale air wafting in to greet them— as Dad removes the last waffles from the iron. Beaming, his attention immediately peels away from the promise of food in favor of the entrance of one of his favorite people. 

“Garnet!” he calls, throwing his arms wide. 

“Good morning, Steven,” she says with a slight sing-song lilt in her voice, crossing the room towards the rest of the family. With a slight smile, she places her hands solid on his shoulders. “I presume you figured out how to fuse back together with your other half.”

“Yup! All together,” he grins, titling his neck back to peer up at her.

“Except his gem flipped, and now it’s all funky,” Amethyst interjects in a flash, playfully jabbing him right at his navel. 

Garnet’s comforting grip slackens, her hands slipping free. 

“Hey!” he giggles, smacking Amethyst’s arm away. “No tickling!”

“It’s not tickling, it’s _revenge!”_ she says with a loud raspy chortle, and puts him in a headlock, scruffing at his hair until it’s a frizzy mess. He kicks his legs in futile protest as she mounts her attack, laughing until the pressure in his lungs is too much to handle and tears prickle at the corner of his eyes. It’s the most he’s laughed since… well, since before he was cracked.

The others, however, aren’t smiling. They don’t seem to be paying any attention to their antics at all. Pearl’s hand is balled at her chin, her soft blue eyes pinned on the Crystal Gem leader. Even his dad’s peering at her with concern, the spatula dangling off one finger.

“Garnet?” his dad asks, his frown deepening the faint wrinkles around his eyes.

“Are you all right?” Pearl chimes in. 

“I…” She clenches her fists, averting her glance. “I don’t understand. Your gem—“

Amethyst scoffs. “—is all diamond shaped now, and it’s totally weird. Steven, show her!”

He gives a slight scowl, subtle enough that the others wouldn’t pick up on it right away. It would be nice if she wasn’t being so pushy about this, if he could find the right moment to tell Garnet himself. But with everyone here watching in anticipation, there’s really nothing else he can do. 

Sighing heavily, he lifts his shirt, exposing his gem. “After I fused with my gem half, it was just _like_ this. I still don’t get why.”

Her visor may cover her eyes, but he knows the spectrum of her expressions well enough that he doesn’t need to see them to know all three pupils have shrunk into pinpricks. Her mouth widens into a circle, crystallizing in her shock. 

“Oh,” she breathes heavily, grinding her teeth against each other hard. “I- I never foresaw this possibility.”

Sweat beads at his brow. Even though she’s trying to mask it (probably for his sake), he can tell she’s struggling to keep from falling apart. Her hands are visibly quivering, and the gems inlaid in her palms pulse with light. He swallows hard, lump hanging in his throat. “Heh, what can I say?” he shrugs with a nervous laugh. “Guess I’m just really unpredictable!”

“Perhaps,” she says quietly, thankfully managing to pull herself together again. She flexes her fists, their tremor receding. Crossing her arms, she moves to lean against the wall by the fridge.

The household falls so quiet that Steven can hear his own stomach gurgle, everyone staring at the fusion in wordless worry. 

His dad coughs. “Well, anyways,” he says, spinning the spatula in a circle. “Who else wants waffles?”

“Lay ‘em on me,” Amethyst says, holding out her plate. He serves her two to start. She shoots him a pair of finger guns, and digs in. 

“Okay. I’m assuming none for Pearl?”

“That would be correct, thanks.”

He promptly turns towards the Crystal Gem leader, a weak grin stretching across his face despite the soured atmosphere. 

“What about you, Garnet?” Wanna try the ol’ Universe family recipe?”

She shakes her head in singular motion. “No.”

The churning in Steven’s stomach fades into obscurity in light of the bitter prospect of his guardian’s emotional instability. So much for daring to hope that they could all make amends where needed, refrain from obsessing over their problems, and move on. He slumps on his stool. Dad deposits a pair of golden, buttery waffles on his plate, artfully garnishing the stack with a dollop of whipped cream and a cluster of raspberries from the bowl of them that Pearl washed earlier, but the idea of together breakfast no longer sounds very appetizing anymore. After all, it’s not the food that makes a together breakfast, it’s the company. And with Pearl and Dad standing nervously to the side, Garnet struggling to remain stable, and even Amethyst sapped of her usual spunk in the light of their demons, this is about as far from together a family can get. What did he do wrong? Why isn’t this the sunny future Garnet showed him last night? 

Leaning his cheek into the palm of his hand, he aimlessly picks at his breakfast with his fork. 

Amethyst glances over at him, already neck deep into her own meal. “Eat up little man, they’re super good!” she declares.

His mouth turns up into a small grimace the longer he stares at the food. It looks wonderful, but...

“Actually, I’m not all that hungry anymore.”

“Steven, you need to eat,” his dad says.

“I just said, I’m not hungry.”

Dad’s brow furrows as he leverages one of his rare _father knows best_ faces at him. Steven looks to Pearl for rescue, but she (perhaps wisely) averts her eyes, choosing not to interject herself into Greg’s parenting. 

Amethyst, however, is more than willing to take up the charge. “If you don’t eat up in two minutes, I’m claiming them,” she threatens, deadpan. “I’ll lick them, nice and slow, with lots of slobber, and then they’ll be mine.”

“Okay, okay!” he says, holding his hands up defensively. “Geeze.” 

He blows a weary burst of air past his lips, grabs his fork, and begins digging in to appease his dad. The first bites settle like stones in the pit of his empty stomach. He has to admit, even if his appetite is zilch, at least they’re good tasting waffles. All his guardians visibly relax upon seeing him start to eat breakfast. Amethyst’s tensed shoulders drop. Pearl allows herself to lean back against the counter. Garnet uncrosses her arms. Out of the corner of his eyes, he catches a glimpse of the fusion picking up the can of whipped cream and squirting some directly into her mouth when she thought the other two Gems weren’t looking. The corner of his mouth perks up. Looks like someone has a secret sweet tooth! 

He’s halfway through the second of the pair of waffles when the short quartz sitting next to him grins devilishly. 

“Hey, Steven…”

“Hnn?” he utters, muffled through the food in his mouth. 

She flicks a raspberry at him. “Catch _this_ hide!” 

He yelps, just barely ducking in time to miss the fruit. It falls apart upon impact on the floor, its juices exploding outward across the wood. 

“Touchdown,” she says, and blows off her finger as if it were a pistol. 

The edge of his lips curve up, chipping away at his melancholy. “Oh, I see what you’re steppin’ in!” 

Pearl groans, throwing her hand against her temple. “Must you two really—“

“Let them have this,” Garnet says coolly as she leans back against the fridge, the whipped cream can still dangling at the edge of her grasp. 

“But we just cleaned this place!”

Amethyst chucks another cluster of berries at him, but this time he’s expecting her fruity projectiles. He cranes his neck back, letting his mouth fall open wide. One of the raspberries bounces off his chin. Close, but not quite. If he’s quick enough, maybe he can catch one in his mouth. That’d be pretty awesome! Thankfully she seems to catch on to his ploy, because she starts to toss them underhand. He stifles giggles as he successfully snaps one— no, _two—_ berries right out of the air. 

“There’s some days I feel like we’re raising _two_ children,” he hears Pearl comment to his dad offhand, as they watch them fool around with their food from the sidelines.

“And there’s some days I feel like _I’m_ raising four,” his dad mutters under his breath.

“What?”

He coughs into his fist. “Uh, nothing!” 

She raises a vaguely disgruntled brow at him, but doesn’t say anything more on the matter. 

He and his quartz sibling gleefully continue messing around with their edible projectiles until they grow bored of it, soon returning to eating their food like (mostly normal) beings. Really, he can only speak for himself, since she’s recently taken to eating the paper plates along _with_ her breakfast. He grins through a mouthful of whipped cream. This is one of the many things he loves and admires about her, that she always knows how to cheer him up when he needs it. Before their little food fight, the soured atmosphere of his household left him almost feeling sick, but he already feels a lot better now. Needless to say, with his restored appetite the last waffle doesn’t take long to disappear. 

“Next time you really gotta try one!” he enthuses to Garnet as he discards his paper plate, weaving between Pearl and his father as they begin to clean the kitchen. “Dad’s waffles are _batter_ than anything!”

He contorts his features into the most exaggerated expression he can muster, waiting with baited breath for the shoe to drop. On the other side of the counter, Amethyst snorts. 

Her nostrils twitch with an uncertain air, the straight edge of her visor casting a deep shadow on her face. She stands with her arms wrapped tight around her torso, like a tourniquet wrapped around a bleeding wound. “Hmm. Perhaps one day.”

And in the space of those three simple words, his little heart breaks into pieces. She almost _always_ chuckles at his corny puns, always! So for her to barely even acknowledge them, for her to bottle away all her usual joy and confidence and quiet wit and hide it under a rock solid mask of falsified indifference, it stings more than anything. He thought she’d grown past this. 

“Garnet, what’s wrong?” he asks, voice cracking in his anguish. The others all look up from whatever they’re doing with obvious curiosity, all of them silently asking the same question but none of them having the courage to approach their leader directly. “You’ve been like this all morning, ever since—“

With a shallow gasp, his eyes grow glassy. Her mood drastically changed the moment she saw his flipped gem. He clamps his hands over his mouth.

Oh, shards.

_He did this._

Both Pearl and Dad move on automatic at the sight of emotional distress, the Gem solidly clasping his shoulder, and his father wrapping his arms around him. Across the room, Amethyst bites at her bottom lip, expression alight with genuine compassion.  

“Steven.” Garnet kneels to address him face-to-face, sighing heavily in her exhaustion, worrisome as that is. He quickly blinks through the burn of unshed tears, glancing up at her. “The truth is, I— _we_ have something we need to share. With all of you.”

The room fills with uncomfortable tension, the shock of her admission and its concerningly specific wording sinking in like maple syrup soaking through a waffle’s airy layers. 

He rubs at the corner of one of his eyes. “W- we? I don’t—“

Pearl steps towards her, shaking her head in a daze. “Garnet, no, surely you can’t mean that…”

“Ruby and Sapphire have decided they want to take some time apart. Indefinitely.”

His mouth falls ajar, but there’s nothing he can think of to say. Steven’s chest rumbles, shaken with cries anchored too deep in his soul for him to actually express. In a heartbeat his dad pulls him closer.

“But… why?” Amethyst asks, face painted in shades of faint betrayal.

She adjusts her visor. “Because in the wake of recent revelations, we’ve realized that we only remained Garnet because of _her.”_

“Garnet, you—“ Pearl stammers— “now you know that’s not true! You saved each other’s lives, you fell in _love_ with each other, you—“

“We stayed fused because a diamond took us by the hands and ordered us not to question who we were as Garnet,” she corrected. “Ruby and Sapphire, they never truly got the luxury to seek self fulfillment as individuals, not like you or Amethyst did. We… we both need time to reflect on what’s happened.”

Slowly swaying in his dad’s embrace, hugging those sturdy, dependable arms to his chest, Steven quietly speaks up. 

“If both of you have been hurting ever since last night, then why didn’t you unfuse already? Why push through it just to come to breakfast?”

The fusion pauses, probably considering her phrasing. She briefly balls her hand at her chin, fingers pressing against one of her gems, and then taking a breath, allows her visor to shimmer away entirely. Her eyes glisten as she imparts her honest answer.

“If I unfused earlier, I wouldn’t have gotten to hug you goodbye.”

He can’t stifle his sobs any longer. Breaking away from his dad, he throws himself at Garnet and— pressing his cheek against her chest— gives a keening cry, the mounting pressure abruptly releasing from his chest but manifesting across his features as dry as a bone. He’s cried too many tears in such a short span of time that he almost wonders if he’s finally hit the bottom of the well. His fingers grip at her familiar form as if he can single-handedly keep her here together with him forever. He dry sobs in her arms until he aches, vying to burn the comforting sensation of his guardian’s solid hold, the assurance of the even thrum running through her hard light body, into his memory forever more. 

The other two Gems join in the embrace, kneeling on the floor with him and wrapping themselves around him like a blanket.

“You- but you can’t just leave us,” Amethyst whispers brokenly. “Not now!”

Her voice hitches. She sighs, pressing her forehead against the smaller Gem’s. “I _know_ this is gonna hurt you, I know. And we’re sorry. We’re so, so sorry. But we need time to reflect, to understand who we are apart from Garnet."

“Yeah, but…”

“Listen to me,” she says gently, pulling back and lifting her chin. “You are enough. An inimitable cut of quartz, just as you are. Please. Even in your darkest moments, never let yourself forget the depth of your worth.”

She nods, her lip quivering.

“And Pearl.” 

The ebony Gem peels away from the hug at her beckoning to catch a glimpse at her, her pale blue irises glinting through the liquid pooling over them. 

“In my absence, I need you to be strong. Not only for yourself, but for all of us. The Crystal Gems will do well under your leadership.”

She hums in confirmation, taking her new mission to heart. “Of course,” she says, straightening her back and sniffing away her tears. 

Garnet turns her saddened gaze to him next, passing her fingers through his tangled mop of hair. “Steven.”

“Y-yeah?”

“None of this is your fault.”

“B-b-but—” he blubbers.

“None of it. The past is not your burden. And any time you begin to fear it is, I want you to pause… take a deep breath… and remember how much we all love you. You are your _own_ Gem."

He bobs his head slowly, sniffling as his breath evens out. 

The fusion sits back on her heels, ending their long embrace.

“Greg,” she says as she stands, leveling her three eyes directly at him. Though Steven has no clue what, some silent conversation passes between the two of them— like charge passing through circuitry— in a series of subtle, indecipherable expressions. “Take care of my family.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies evenly, wiping a stray tear away from his own cheek. 

Closing her eyes, Garnet begins to glow white, the gems at the core of her being shifting and separating into two smaller light bodies. They’re still holding hands at the moment the glow fades. Sapphire is the first to let go, letting her gloved fingers fall loose against the skirt of her dress.

Ruby’s face is a blank stone wall, one that’s been visibly chipped away at. Her eyes clearly glisten, as if she’s about to fall apart at any moment yet is stubbornly holding this outburst of emotion back until she can escape to a place of privacy. Sapphire, on the other hand, makes no attempt to mask her distress. As always the fringe of her hair covers half of her face, but the tracks of her tears flow down her cheek and to her chin, threatening to drip onto her bodice. 

Despite the unfortunate nature of their appearance, Steven can’t deny he’s still glad to get a chance to see them. 

“Um… h-hi, Ruby, Sapphire,” he stutters with his best attempt at a smile. “Long time no see?”

“Hello, Steven,” the blue Gem responds in amicable but still relatively formless monotone, as she clasps her gemless hand over the other. She sniffs, wiping the stray lines of hard light based fluid away from her eye and nose before allowing her expression to crystallize again. Gathering herself, she turns to face the group. “If all of you will excuse me, I need some time to think. Alone, for once.”

With not another word— not even an attempt at greeting the others, or consoling Ruby, who looks ready to cry at a moment’s notice— Sapphire turns on a dime and effortlessly glides across the warp pad to the temple door. She holds her right palm to the crystals embedded in the stonework, the blue one glowing bright in response. The seldom used entrance unlocks with a sonorous click. They all watch in stunned silence as she disappears through the opening, into the vast depths of the Crystal Temple. 

The group stands ramrod straight, no one budging an inch as they stare vacantly at the doorway. Ruby folds her hands tight together, pressing them to her chest. 

Pearl, thankfully, is the first to break the spell. (He’s thankful because he isn’t sure if anyone else here could’ve gathered the courage in the light of everything that just happened, himself included.) 

“Oh Ruby, I’m so sorry,” she whispers, balling her hand against her mouth.

“D’ya wanna go punch some stuff in the Kindergarten with me?” Amethyst offers softly, slinging her arm around the shorter Gem.

Steven weakly raises a finger in suggestion. “Or we could play some games here. I finally found that limited release console version of Fight Fighters a few days back, if that’s up your alley.”

“And I could always take you for a quiet drive up the coast,” Greg says. 

She shakes her head, shrugging away from Amethyst's attempt at comfort. “I- I don’t really wanna talk to any of you right now, to be honest. S’ not your fault, but—“

Ruby pauses, her small form nearly shaking as she averts her gaze from them all, staring into the middle distance with glassy eyes.

“I think… for now, I jus- I just need to run away,” she croaks. “Sorry."

Not even bothering to hold back her sobs anymore, she barrels across the room in a flurry of anguish and climbs the steps to the warp pad. Everything happens so fast that no one can react quick enough to stop her before she activates it, a burst of cyan light springing forth to whisk her away into the stream. In seconds, she’s gone.

Steven shuffles his feet, feeling for all the world as if some antagonistic force of the universe just stole a decent chunk of his heart away.

“Well, _now_ what?” Amethyst says with a big shrug. 

Pearl crosses her arms, her lips curving into a subtle sneer at the glibness of her attitude. “What do you mean, ‘now what?’ We’re going to go round them up, sit them both down, have a calm, rational discussion, and fix this!”

“But you can’t just— _ughhh,”_ she groans, throwing her head back. “They’re not inanimate objects for you to sort into piles, P! You can’t expect to throw them together and like, _make_ them fuse again! That’s not how it works!”

“Now, that’s not what I meant, I—“

“Bull! It’s exactly what you meant!”

She haughtily turns up her nose, aghast. “I don’t appreciate the accusatory tone you’ve taken with me!” 

“And there you go, gettin’ all defensive,” she says, throwing her arms up. Her form glows white as she effortlessly shapeshifts into a picture perfect purple doppleganger of her. “Blah, blah, blah blah blah,” she spits in the most exaggerated voice she can muster, twirling the bottom ribbon of her sash on her finger. “I’m Pearl, and I know better than everyone else ‘coz I’m _always_ right!”

 _“Amethyst!_ That’s _enough!”_

He pales as he watches the two of them outright self destruct. In many ways, it’s a disappointing step back. He hasn’t seen them spat this badly for almost a year. His feet shuffle awkwardly beneath him, bare toes twitching as his mind yearns for some brilliant idea that could stop this fight in its tracks, but at the current moment he’s got nothing.

“Daaaad,” he whispers lowly, obscuring his mouth from their view with a cupped hand. “Help me out here?”

His father grits his teeth, nervously stepping forward between him and the two Gems at each other’s throats. “H-hey, you two, how about we all take a deep breath a—“

 _“Shut up, Greg!”_ they shout in unison, whirling on him. 

He throws his palms up, immediately backing away from their vitriolic spat. Steven grabs onto his arm once he’s returned to him, hugging it close to his chest, which is growing tighter and tighter by the second. He absolutely hates seeing his family fight, more than anything, but when they refuse to listen to reason, what can he do about it?

“As I was trying to say, you’re completely taking my words out of context,” Pearl hisses, advancing on her. 

“No, I’m _not!”_ she hollers, her voice echoing into the rafters of the compact beach house. She jabs her finger under the other Gem’s nose, the action violent enough in its intensity that Steven can’t help but flinch at the sight. “You still wanna think you can wave your little hand and have _everything_ go back to the way it was, poof, like magic! But guess what?! You can’t!! Garnet’s gone, we have no real leader, Ruby disappeared to _shard knows_ where, you can barely explain a single thing without locking up, basically everything we ever knew about Rose was a complete lie, a-and, and—“

“And now it’s Steven’s turn to leave,” he declares abruptly, the tension held in thick knots within him easing at his bold decision. 

This is apparently enough to snap Pearl out of her emotional tizzy, his guardian whirling to face him with an embarrassed flush blooming blue across her cheeks. “Oh, Steven, I—“

Spinning on his heels, he scrambles away from the others as fast as he can, heart racing, only pausing to retrieve his phone from where it’s been charging and to slip on sandals. “I’m sorry, can’t talk, I’m _headedtotown, needsomefreshair, bye!”_

He lets it slam behind him as he races out into the arms of Beach City’s breezy, overcast morning. His flip flops clap rhythmically against his heels. 

“Wait! Steven!” his dad calls after him, but it’s already too late. He’s not going back in, he refuses. Not now, not with everyone being so sullen and argumentative and _weird._

He thought they could move on, he thought all this repressed pain and feelings of betrayal could heal and they could all grow closer for it, but apparently he’s wrong. Nothing about this messed up situation is ever going to get better, is it? He doubles over as he passes the mailbox, his sprint slowing to an abrupt halt. His teeth clench, his fingers digging into the fabric of his jeans like rose barbs through delicate skin as he catches his breath. Steven digs into his pocket for his phone. 

“Hoh geeze,” he mutters, holding down the power button to force restart. “This is such a mess.”

At least he was wise enough to grab his phone in the first place. Blessedly, the screen finally lights up. 

And as feared, he’s met with a hefty cluster of missed notifications from Connie. Sweat beads on his brow as he begins to scroll through them, even though he knew darn well this was coming.

 **Connie:** _Um?? How was any of that supposed to not make me worry?_

 **_Connie:_ ** _Are you okay?_

 **_Connie:_ ** _Steven? ???_

**_Missed call- Connie Maheswaran, 7:02 am._ **

**_Missed call- Connie Maheswaran, 7:04 am._ **

**_Connie:_ ** _Pls call me when you can_

**_Missed call- Connie Maheswaran, 7:51 am._ **

**_Missed call- Connie Maheswaran, 8:47 am._ **

**_Connie:_ ** _Seriously I’m kinda freaking out rn what’s going on over there, I’d come over as backup if I could but I’m packing for the India trip and mom won’t let me leave_

He purses his lips, silently smacking himself for sending that stupid, stupid text early this morning in the first place. “Yeah, I should probably clear this up,” he mumbles. 

Steven swipes to unlock his phone, navigates to Connie’s contact, and presses the video chat button. Forget calls. This is definitely a scenario in need of face-to-face communication. If they can’t be in the same place at the same time, a video chat is the second best thing.

He plops himself down in the sand, and patiently waits through the first and second dial.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo, this was a fun one (see: heart wrenching) to write. I enjoyed tackling a wide variety of family interactions here.
> 
> Some random notes for this chapter:
> 
> -HC: while Pearl hates eating, she's actually a fairly good cook. She's the one who makes sure Steven's getting some good ol' healthy food in him.
> 
> -Uhh, that game Steven was gonna play before he realized his phone was Dead with a capital D, 'Splashy Shark,' is just this universe's version of Flappy Bird, honestly. Don't ask why, haha, I thought it'd be amusing. XD
> 
> -I HC that non-diamond type Gems wouldn't be able to flip their gemstone like Pink/Rose/Steven can. It's something that requires a whole lot of power to carry out. Thus why even Amethyst, the shapeshifting master, can't manage it. As an added point, Rose was able to shift the color of her skin to a far lighter shade and completely change her eyes, whereas other Gems tend to retain their color scheme when they shapeshift. Rose definitely had an extra strong shapeshifting ability in the first place.
> 
> -After chapter five, the insinuation is that Garnet went into the temple, unfused, and Ruby and Sapphire had their little falling out there. They only fused again to come out for breakfast because they realized Garnet never got a chance to hug Steven goodbye for now- and they weren't sure when (if ever) they'd be fusing again. Whether this softened the blow or made it worse for the kid is up for debate.
> 
> -That being said, I want to clarify that this definitely isn't the end of Ruby and Sapphire's relationship. I'll tag more thoroughly once I start diving into specifics, but their arcs will be about self discovery, both about who they are as individuals and in relation to each other.
> 
> -I did not expect to end up writing a Pearl and Amethyst spat in this chapter when I first planned it, but I'm certainly not complaining. It just sorta... organically happened. XD
> 
> -The title of this fic actually has a double meaning... the word 'paragon' can refer to both a diamond, or something that is an example of perfection. The divergence in this world led to Steven's gem being cracked, but it also essentially shattered the perfect little family dynamic that he'd had for so long at this point.


	9. Symmetry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a diamond is a girl's best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warning: There is a fairly in-depth depiction of a dissociative flashback. Nothing I'd consider particularly extreme, but I figured it'd be courteous to make a specific warning for it anyways.

On literally any other day, folding laundry would be relaxing. 

There’s something comforting about falling back into predictable rhythms, hands running on automatic through assorted piles of clothes as her thoughts take a wandering vacation. Chores are boring, sure, but compared to the non-stop drive of the rest of her life Connie can at least appreciate how mindless they are. In a world filled with things like honors algebra and violin recitals and sword training, falling into the arms of subconscious repetition every once in a while feels nice, like a much needed mental break from the rest of reality. 

The only problem is exactly that: it’s mindless. It doesn’t force her to use an ounce of brainpower. It doesn’t block her thoughts from waltzing down dark alleyways, or taking sharp swerves into territory unknown. It doesn’t distract her from obsessively checking her phone every other minute to see if she’s gotten any new calls or texts. 

It doesn’t stop her from worrying about Steven.

Normally steady fingers twitch as she folds a sock inside its proper pair. Her pocket nearly feels like it’s burning. Groaning, she tosses the pair into her suitcase and pulls her phone out. The lock screen illuminates, showcasing a photo of a pretty sunset she took from the hill above the temple. Her mouth tightens. Once again, nothing. Giving in to the distraction, she unlocks her phone and taps to reach his latest message. Tired eyes gloss over his photo and those words for the thousandth time.

_Accidentally got separated from gem—_

_I’ll call later, some kinda scary stuff happened—_

_Please don’t worry too much._

Well, too late for that. She’s not fooled by his blasé, chipper attitude in this text, or the forced grin of the concerningly pale-faced Steven (one of _two!_ How can he claim he’s fine when he’s literally lost a part of himself??) at the forefront of the photo he sent. No, no. She won’t be convinced until she audibly hears it or can throw her arms around him in person, which is harder said than done when he hasn’t returned her calls and Mom won’t let her take the bus over to his place for the morning because she’s supposed to be “packing.” Ugh. As far as she’s concerned, visiting extended family in India can wait its turn. Something terribly wrong must have happened in Beach City last night, and the suspense of not knowing is nearly suffocating her.

But logically, she knows worrying about it nonstop won’t be of help to her _or_ Steven. He’ll call when he calls. She just hopes it’s before she leaves the country. Her dad's a bit of a tightwad when it comes to the idea of upgrading to international call and text, to her chagrin. If she’s honest, it’s the one part of this trip she dreads— having zero contact with her best friend for a week. 

Connie hastily breathes in and out, attempting to forcefully will the stress to dissipate. Let it go. Stop thinking about it. She gently tosses her phone on her bed where she can’t reach it, and pushes herself back into the dependable rhythm of laundry folding.

Licking her chapped lips as she works through the pile of newly clean clothes, she folds the turquoise colored silk choli bodice her mom arranged for a relative to hand weave for her on her last birthday and carefully places it with its matching saree. The decorative border running the length of the saree is embroidered with little flowers and swirls in gold thread. Connie smiles faintly, reverently running her hand across the smooth fabric. She’ll be wearing her typical shorts, overalls, and blouses for most of this trip, but she’s super excited to have the perfect excuse to bring this outfit out of her closet for once. It always makes her feel beautiful, with her hair pinned back and the saree draped around her, but she still can’t help but fear she’s ridiculously overdressed whenever she wears it anywhere outside of family events. A shame. Maybe she’ll build the courage to wear it one day when she goes to Steven’s house for sword practice. She’ll change into her usual training clothes during the practice itself, of course— she can’t risk tearing silk or restricting her movement— but it’d be cool to share a piece of her own family’s culture with him like that. Her cheeks heat up as she imagines his reaction. He’ll probably think it’s pretty. Pearl, too. Her teacher definitely has a flair for artistry, after all. 

...but of course, that’s assuming Steven and the Gems are okay. 

Her previously giddy thoughts wane like a withering petal. Sitting with her legs criss crossed on her bedroom floor, she hunches over with a heavy sigh, propping her chin into her hands. How long is this morning going to last? 

Muffled amidst the cocoon of thick blankets adorning her bed, her phone’s ringer picks that very moment to blare into existence. Her nerves electrify in an instant, though whether that’s more a symptom of surprise or anticipation is anyone’s guess. Chest pounding, she shoots to her feet and scrambles across the room to pick it up. She sighs a breath of relief as her eyes skim over the caller ID. It’s him. And he wants to video chat! Without thinking twice she jabs her thumb against the screen to answer.

A handful of seconds pass as her phone attempts to connect over her family’s spotty wi-fi, heart twisting painfully in her throat as she steels herself for whatever potentially bad update about her friend’s life she’s about to receive, but then—

The video pushes through, and her friend appears on the screen. His hair is notably mussed, (more so than usual, that is), with wild curly locks sticking up from his head at weird angles. 

“Mornin’, Connie,” he says, exhaustion evident on his face but besides that, appearing physically well. There’s actually color in his cheeks for one thing, unlike in the photo he sent before dawn.

“Steven!” she exclaims, subconsciously gripping the sides of her phone tighter in the absence of an actual hug. “You’re okay!”

“More or less,” he says in confirmation, the corner of his mouth turning up for a glimmer of a second. His expression quickly becomes tinted in shades of remorse, however, his voice on the brink of cracking. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t call back earlier! My phone died on me, and then I forgot to plug it in, and _then_ I got distracted by a bunch of crazy family stuff, and that’s probably not a good excuse, but—“ 

She tries to feed him a reassuring smile, pushing down the blatant depth of her worry for his sake.

“Hey, don’t fuss about it. It happens. And anyways, you’re here now, right? So all that doesn’t even matter anymore.”

Her friend deals her a noncommittal shrug in response, and slouches against the rough hewn stone she’s only now noticing in the background. If she has to guess, he’s sitting on the beach, leaning against the sheer cliff walls where they first met almost two years earlier. _Interesting,_ she muses, her brow furrowing. Usually when they do video calls Steven makes a point to stay in his house because he gets better reception there. On top of that, there’s an undeniable melancholy brewing within his eyes that would be amiss to ignore. He’s not even trying to mask it for once, which speaks volumes in and of itself about how heavy a burden it’s become, whatever it is that’s bothering him. Geeze, what on Earth happened over there last night?

“So, your gem,” she starts, edging towards the topic carefully. “Are you still—?”

He shakes his head, seemingly already catching on to what she’s gonna ask. “Nah, we’re together again! Turns out I can still fuse even without him.”

“Hmm, I—“ Connie pauses, mind fixating for a second on the specific way he referred to his gem half, ascribing an undeniable sense of individuality to him— “well, I’m super glad you figured that out. But I still don’t understand, how can you get separated from your gem in the first place?”

“It’s, uh- a pretty complicated story, fair warning.”

“Pshhh, that’s no problem, I’ve got all morning,” she says, and props her phone against her bedpost so she can continue packing while listening. Freed once more, her hands seek out more unpaired socks to join. 

“Only if you’re good with it, then.” The boy sighs deeply as he begins to prepare his words. The infamous drama zone kicking in, he lets his head lull backwards at gravity’s command against the cliffside’s face. She can’t help but cringe at the audible smack of his skull against smooth rock. “Ow!” he whines, immediately jerking forwards again. He rubs the back of his head in clear disbelief, softly laughing at his own folly. “Well, that was a pretty dumb idea.”

“Not gonna disagree,” she says with a giggle, glancing between her clothes and the screen in intervals as she folds. “Now, tell me everything. From the beginning. I still gotta pack, but I’m listening, I promise.”

A soft smile brightens his face, sunlight glinting off his dark brown irises. It’s enough to capture her stare, to make everything else in the world freeze to a stop. Just for one magic moment. Her heart almost flip flops at the gentle way he gazes at her, his eyes filled with a shy reverence that honestly, speaks volumes to his nature as a person. Because while he’s grown undeniably strong as a half-Gem, he’s far more than that. He's kind. He’s sensitive, and caring. So, so caring. More than anything else he tries his hardest to be extra empathetic about the needs of others around him, and she adores this about him, she truly does. Her only wish is that he could be this receptive about his _own_ needs all the time, too. With her firsthand knowledge of the stressful stuff he and the other Gems deal with on a weekly basis, she can’t help but worry sometimes.

He breathes in, chest rising and falling as he prepares to tell his story. “Okay. So it all started yesterday morning when I was playing video games with the Gems…”

 

* * *

 

“—and then that’s when I figured out I could still fuse, right after I texted you. So we did, and- and well, that’s pretty much it,” Steven finishes some unknown allotment of time later, with a bit of a waver in his voice, absentmindedly twirling his finger around a short curl at the nape of his neck as he adjusts his grip on the phone with his other hand. 

With his story more or less complete, barring a few recent occurrences he’s hesitant to speak of right now, he pays careful attention to the minute fluctuations of Connie’s expression as everything he’s told her sinks in. 

(He intentionally left out some of the more intimate bits, of course— like softly crying himself to sleep before Dad warped back, or having a near breakdown on the beach, or his conversation with half of himself. Some moments simply aren’t for others to know.)

Her voice wavers as she finally makes to respond. “Wow, that’s… a lot.”

“Yeah. And like, I wanna believe it’s over now, but everyone’s still acting so weird.”

“Mmm, and then there’s everything about your mom, and Pink Diamond…” She balls her hand against her mouth as she mulls over this information, her sobered glance shifting from him to some unspecified point in her bedroom. 

And at seeing the subtle aversion of her gaze, he frets for a second. He squirms in the seat of the cold metal chair he’s made his temporary home in, toes curling inwards much like the creeping dread that’s trying to inch its way ever further into his heart, stifling any last hope of peace or calm. Replacing it with fear. Like, what if his real talk is _too_ real? _Too_ honest? What if he’s freaked her out, or overloaded her with the sheer weight of everything that’s happened to him, what if she’ll wanna keep her distance from him because of all this, _what if—_

“I’m so sorry you have to deal with all this,” she says softly, slashing the cord that’s restraining him within his frantic thoughts. 

His shoulders relax, tension fading.

“I- is there anything I can do?” his friend continues. “To help, I mean?”

“Nah, don’t think so. Not right now, at least. Honestly, just having someone to talk to about all this means a lot.” He begins to slowly swing his legs back and forth, and leans against the coffee stained table top. “Normally I’d talk to one of the Gems, but. Well, y’know.”

His friend bobs her head in the affirmative. “Mmm.”

“It’s just…” he begins, pausing with a long sigh as he tries to organize all his jumbled emotions into something remotely explainable. His eyes drift away from his phone, focusing instead on the soft, tantalizing glow of the ice cream freezer across the shop. “I think I almost died, Connie. For real. I was shivering, a-and scared, and cracked, and- and yet they couldn’t stop fighting about whatever happened in the past. I don’t know _anything_ about Pink Diamond, or what terrible things Rose apparently did, but now it’s like… even if they don’t mean to, that’s all they can think about when they look at me?”

Steven groans in exhaustion, slumping forward so the side of his face is pressed against the table. It’s comfy, never mind how dirty the surface probably is. He shifts his phone in his hands so Connie’s image is still parallel to him. “I dunno. I should’ve never popped that bubble in the first place. If I didn’t let Bismuth out, none of this would’ve happened.”

“Steven!” a loud voice calls from across the shop. “Are you gonna buy a donut or what?”

“Whu- huh??”

Startled, he shoots upright in the chair— knowing all too well from the faint thrum dancing under his skin that he’s on the brink of summoning his bubble on sheer impulse— before realizing that _no, it’s only Lars,_ _everything’s fine, I’m fine._

The surly teen is slumped against the counter next to Sadie, (who’s counting the money in the cash register on sheer compulsion, as if rifling through it one more time might cause the cash to magically multiply), both employees marinating in the boredom of yet another low traffic mid-September day at the Big Donut. He pauses to catch his breath, in retrospect feeling super silly for his near freak-out. His two favorite donut people have been here this whole time, of course. How he managed to become so sucked in by his call that he forgot is beyond him.

“Are you okay?” he hears Connie ask softly, obvious concern in her voice.

Lars on the other hand, apparently wasn’t finished calling him out.

“You can’t just- loiter here all morning and not buy anything!” he says. Brow threading together in perplexion, he whirls towards his coworker. “Right? Isn’t there a law for that? Sadie, help me out here-!”

She rolls her eyes so far they almost disappear back into her skull. “Oh, leave him alone, he’s fine...”  
  
“Yeah, I’m not loitering, I’m having a nice conversation with my friend!” he chimes, holding up his phone screen to them as proof.

“Hi Sadie, Lars,” Connie says.

The young lady behind the register smiles warmly despite the bags under her eyes, and pauses her task to wave to the camera.

Unimpressed, Lars leans his chin against his balled up fist, elbow propped on the counter. His tired eyes narrow into thin slits, exaggerated by the squish of his cheek against his bottom eyelid. “A ‘nice conversation?’ You’ve been sitting there for half an hour rambling about the misfortunes of near death,” he says, deadpan.

“I—“ His eyes grow wide as he combs back through the— now that he thinks about it— admittedly dour mood of everything he’s recently said. “Is that really what it sounded like...?”

Is he just being a killjoy to everyone? He thought it’d be okay to be real about it with his friend for once, since he usually keeps his deeper issues to himself, but perhaps...

“No, just ignore him,” Sadie says as she diligently sorts the coins, cutting in right before his mind can continue its downward spiral. 

On the screen, Connie nods in wholehearted support. “It’s just venting, I don’t mind.”

And despite everything else he manages a smile at that, small and thin but filling him with a needed burst of energy all on its own.

“Huh,” Lars mutters, scrutinizing him closely. “Well, whatever it was, dark and brooding is a surprisingly good vibe for you. We’ll make a teenager of you yet.”

Steven blinks in confusion.

“But I already _am_ a teenager,” he says, perhaps a bit more defensively than he ought have. 

“Yeah!” chimes his friend over the phone.

“Wait, really? Aren’t you like, nine or somethin’?”

He squirms in his seat upon reference to his inability to physically age, feeling the flush touch his ears. “Uh, actually…”

“Dude, he’s _been_ a teenager,” Sadie says. She stuffs the last of the quarters in their slot and securely shuts the cash register drawer. “He turned fourteen a few weeks ago, don’t you remember?”

“N- no… I just—“ Lars lets out a scoff, shooting her a moody sneer. “Whatever, okay? I don’t have the time _or_ the patience to remember everyone’s birthdays in this dead-end town.”

“Only twenty-nine people even live here year round.”

“So? Your point is?”

“My point is that it’s kinda common courtesy to look up and pay attention to your surroundings every once in a while?”

He turns up his nose. “Ugh, well you know what—“

Steven purses his lips as he watches the two of them devolve into yet another round of petty squabbling. (Why all of these fights lately…? What’s wrong with everyone, what’s in the air?) Suddenly feeling very much like high tailing it out of here, he shifts in his seat. He and Connie share a knowing glance, one that quickly lets him knows they’re on the same page. Originally, he came here to use the store wi-fi since he didn’t want to be at home right now, but he can probably still use it just fine sitting at the table outside. Without any overt announcement of the fact, he stands and makes his way to the door. Lars and Sadie are too caught up in their spat to notice him leave.

Only when the cool breeze greets him outside can he relax. He kicks back in one of the chairs set out front of the store, adjusting his phone in his hand. Gulls call loudly from the boardwalk in their endless search for trashed food. A handful of people he doesn’t recognize— tourists!— splash in the water or play in the sand, a pair of young men holding hands as they cross the public beach. Sunlight is finally breaking through the cloud cover, brilliant blue overtaking dreary grey. He smiles faintly. Despite everything, it truly is a beautiful morning. 

“Sorry about all that!” he says to his friend on the line, glancing back at the doors of the Big Donut. “They really are cool people when you got to know ‘em, but they kinda disagree about stuff a lot.” 

Connie stifles a laugh, her expression unreadable for a moment. “I know you keep saying they’re probably dating, but I honestly don’t believe you.”

His skin grows clammy all of a sudden.

_Don’t… believe..._

He's frozen. It’s almost like he’s with Sapphire, trapped again in that old motel room shivering amidst her frost powers. And yet simultaneously he’s not, ‘cause… because he’s burning up, hand clutching at thin air. He’s terrified. He’s completely alone, he’s—

He’s back in the forge. 

Bismuth’s there, looming like a reaper above him, arm shapeshifted into some sort of curved saw blade and held aloft. Thick, viscous lava boils angrily in the pool surrounding the platform he’s on, and more than anything it’s a warning, a constant warning, and he’s stupid, he’s so unobservant and stupid, he should have paid heed to it when he came down here in the first place, why didn’t he—

Heat blasts almost violently at him as he shuffles away on hands and feet, scooting backwards on the blistering stone. He heaves for breath amidst his panic. Meanwhile, the channels of hard light running parallel with his veins buzz alongside the rush of adrenaline keeping him alive. Sweat beads on his forehead, sticky and unnaturally cool.

No matter how hard he tries, he’s too weak against her. His shield isn’t strong enough.

He knows this for a fact now, knows that Bismuth can dissipate both it _and_ his bubble with enough force, and that’s a  _super_ scary thought but it doesn’t stop the primal instinct pulsing insistently at the back of his mind, pushing him to stand back up, to summon his weapon anyways and try to defend himself. It’s nothing but a lost cause, though. 

Now, his only true shield is his words. 

“Wait, I’m not my mom!” he cries in desperation, shielding himself with his arms. “I don’t know what she did, but I’m sure she didn’t want to hurt you!”

The stark shadow obscuring the rainbow haired Gem’s eyes grows darker. 

“It’s too late,” she spits, preparing to swing her arm down. “I don’t believe you anymore!”

And then with a shallow gasp he’s here again, here at this dingy plastic table sitting under the bright and blue hope of morning, his phone clutched in a vice-like grip. Breath passes through his lips shakily. What the heck  _was_ that?? Was his gem feeding him old memories like what happened in his sleep, or something? Whatever it was, he’s genuinely not sure how much time has passed during the vision, a realization which unnerves him. Seemingly not too long, as Connie hasn’t moved to speak yet. Yet still her too-familiar words echo in his mind, pulsing with the thrum of inflamed blood vessels at an open wound, and without the blessing of inhibition he blurts out the first thought that reveals itself.

“That’s fair,” he says, voice cracking. “I probably wouldn’t believe me about a lot of things right now.”

Her brow creases with obvious concern. “Hey... Hey, I didn’t mean that personally. I was just messing around with ya’. You know that, right?”

“I know,” he sighs. “I’m sorry. I guess I just feel... really on edge.” Jittery fingers card through thick curls as his chest softly rumbles in the absurdity of it all. “Geeze, I’m being a real sad sack today, huh?”

“Well, you’ve been through a lot.”

“Yeah, but to be fair ‘near death scenarios’ are pretty much just an occupational hazard at this point. And I’ve handled that fine _before,_ so…”

“Still doesn’t erase the fact that it’s impacted you hard this time,” she says softly, leveling her gaze squarely on him, her intuitive brown eyes disassembling his insecurities and then putting them back together like a puzzle.

He flushes, shrinking where he sits. He pulls his legs up onto the seat, clutching them to his chest. Intuitively he knows she’s right, he _knows_ that all this has messed with him more than the danger of Gem stuff normally does, but he still can’t help but feel… ashamed? That he’s feeling this way in the first place? It’s bizarre. It’s completely dumb, and the more he fixates on it the more dumb it becomes. Eventually he decides he’s not in the right mental state to try and weave a halfway rational response to her and elects to swerve the topic.

“So there’s also another not-great thing that happened,” he begins, hugging his knees. “Should probably mention.”

“Yeah…?”

“Garnet unfused over all this. Maybe for good this time.”

She gasps, and in an instant her face shoots closer on his screen.

“Wait _what?_ She- you mean that Ruby and Sapphire aren’t—“ 

“Yup.”

Connie covers her mouth in shock, eyes glistening. “Oh, no! Steven, I’m so sorry! And you don’t think they’ll be able to work it out?”

“No, they made it seem pretty permanent.”

“That’s… really rough,” she sighs in solidarity. “‘Cause I mean, at least since it’s fusion she’s still there in spirit, but- you grew up knowing _Garnet.”_

“Exactly,” he nods. “I love Ruby and Sapphire a whole bunch, but it’s still different, y’know? Like, it’s like I lost someone important to me. Maybe forever. And... it feels so awful,” he says, pushing past the lump in his throat that he wishes more than anything would go away. “All of it. It’s like everyone in my family’s falling apart. The moment she unfused, Sapphire immediately shut herself in her room, and then Ruby was so upset she ran away, and Amethyst and Pearl started yelling at each other about everything, so… I left. And called you,” he explains, gesturing at her. “And now I’m here, chillin’ at the Big Donut. And that’s pretty much it.”

“Gosh...”

“Yeah.”

“Again, I’m sorry you had to deal with all this. I mean, outright getting cleaved from half of yourself? I can’t even imagine…” She bites at her knuckles for a moment, deep in thought. “Makes me wish I had more than sympathy to offer.”

“Nah, just you listening to everything means a whole bunch. I really appreciate that,” he says. “I—“ his voice wavers a bit as he feels the heat of the blush blossoming across his cheeks— “I really appreciate _you._ A lot. You- you know that, don't you?”

She giggles, the sound a beautiful reassurance to his ears. “Of course I do! And anyways, you always take time to listen to me when I’m down. That’s what jam buds are for, right?”

“Right,” he says, the word reverberating in harmony in the deepest reaches of his heart.

“Steven!” a voice calls from the distance. 

Connie’s brow furrows. “Is that…?”

He whips his head around, squinting in the sunlight to catch a clearer glimpse of the figure running towards the edge of the Big Donut’s patio, his long hair rippling behind him. At the sight of family, his eyes light up. He waves his free arm in greeting.

“Dad!”

“Hey, kiddo!” his dad says, crossing the last few steps to the patio chair he’s curled up in. Gasping for breath, he plops himself in the chair adjacent. “I thought I’d find you here. You doin’ better now?”

He makes a half grimace, and shakes his flattened hand in a so-so gesture.

Dad’s hopeful smile fades, quickly replaced with a compassionate sense of understanding that could only come from years of hard earned age and experience. “Yeah. Yeah, I getcha. Seeing people you love fight like that’s never fun. Do you wanna talk about it?”

He presses his mouth into a line as he contemplates. To be honest, after venting about everything to Connie, fixating on negative emotions more is the last thing he wants to do, but he doesn’t wanna be rude to his dad. Thank goodness he has a valid excuse to avoid it altogether! 

“Uh, I’m kinda on the phone, here,” he says, showing him his phone screen as proof. 

“Oh, by golly, so you are! Hey, Connie. How are you hangin’ in there?”

She flashes a smile. “Hi, Mr. Universe! I’m okay, thanks.”

“Heh, Mr. Universe, huh?” he chuckles softly, scratching at his beard. “Such formalities! You’ve known me for what, how long? Please, you can call me Greg.”

“Thanks, but my mom says I’m not allowed to call grown ups by their first names.”

“Dr. Maheswaran has all sorts of weird mom rules,” Steven chimes in, nodding.

“Hoo boy, do I know about those,” his dad commiserates in a flat tone. He makes a big show out of mulling this over, humming as he taps at his chin. “Well then, don’t think of me as a grown up, but more of a big kid with, erm… slightly bigger responsibilities.”

“Uh, okay!” Connie says, hesitantly glancing between him and Steven. “If it’s alright with you, then, Mr. Greg!”

Dad‘s mouth turns up in a fond smirk, and then he glances back at him. “Anyways, I wanted to let you know that the Gems have cooled down. I had… a bit of a _talk_ with them, let’s say,” he mutters, clear exhaustion betraying his otherwise content demeanor. “Should be fine to go back when you’re ready.”

“Did Ruby return??”

“Nah, she’s still MIA. But Pearl and Amethyst are on the case.”

He sighs, disappointment flooding his heart. He’s not sure why he ever dreamed otherwise. She’ll come back eventually, of course. She’s gotta. According to Garnet, Rubies are very social Gems, which means they prefer sharing in the company of others over being alone. And even when she’s not fused with Sapphire, she’s still a part of his family. He dearly hopes she knows that. 

“I hope her and Sapphire will be okay,” he mutters.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine in the end,” he says with a shrug. “They’ve come apart before, after all.”

Connie hums in agreement. “Yeah, sometimes even my parents need some quiet time away from each other. That’s totally normal!”

Dropping his legs to dangle from the chair again, Steven watches an orange spotted butterfly flutter between the beach umbrellas set up on the patio tables, meeting with its other half before both journeying away in the wind. His cheeks lift at their attempts at reassurance, and boy, does it feel so much more natural than frowning pensively.

“D’ya really think so?”

Smiling softly, his dad affectionately musses his hair. “All we can do is wait and see, bud. Wait and see.” He stands to his feet then, grunting as he uses the table’s surface to help push him up. Gaze growing somewhat weary, he peers with purpose towards the far side of the hill. “Anyways, your old man will be over at the car wash, scrubbing soap scum off the floors. Eughh, right? But hey, if you need anything… a hug, an ear, some classic fatherly advice… come and find me, okay? Take it easy this morning.” Grinning, he turns back to wave goodbye to the girl mirrored on the screen. “Nice seeing ‘ya, Connie. Take care.”

“You too!” she waves in return. 

And with that farewell his dad begins his casual jaunt down the sidewalk, leaving the two of them alone once more. Except, he supposes that’s not true at all, is it? Even without Connie, even without Dad, or the Gems. Because if he can take away one good thing from this whole messed up experience, just one hopeful message, it’s that he’s never been alone a day of his life. That’s simply the nature of fusion, you see. Even in the darkest, scariest moments...

 _I’ve never actually been alone,_ he marvels. _I’ve just been me._

 

* * *

 

Once Steven’s dad leaves to scrub down the floors at his car wash, their conversation evolves considerably from its bleak beginnings. _Enough about all this Gem stuff,_ Steven says, _what’s new with you? Besides, uh- folding underwear, of course!_

Connie laughs, rolling her eyes at the visible blush on his face as she pushes the aforementioned undergarments out of frame. She eagerly shares some of the finer details of her India trip, telling him all about when she’s leaving for the airport, (late this evening, on a red-eye flight across the Atlantic), what area of the country she’s visiting, (Punjab, where some of her extended family lives), and how long she’ll be gone (just a week!). From there, the topic shifts between a variety of themes, ranging anywhere from her anxiety and excitement at starting school again when she gets back, the pride of finally figuring out a challenging song she’s wanted to perfect for a while on her violin, to this super compelling Unfamiliar Familiar fanfic she found where Lisa discovers she’s secretly heir to the throne of the corrupt society she’s always been vying to escape from underneath the authoritative thumb of.

“Wow, this is the story I never knew I always needed so badly in my entire life,” Steven says, brown irises turning starry-eyed in the sunlight. He’s sitting atop the hill now, resting content on his belly in the grass in front of the lighthouse. 

“I know, right?? I’ll send you the link,” she promises, dangling her feet in the air behind her as she lays on the carpet.

He pumps his fist in the air triumphantly. “Woo, free infinite books!”

“Well, keep in mind, it’s not finished yet. Apparently it’s supposed to update bi-weekly, but I think the author got a bit boggled down by life stuff recently.”

“Aw, that’s too bad. I hope they’re doin’ okay.”

“Same… But hey,” she says with a soft laugh, “at least it’s a long fic, right?”

“Y’know,” he interjects the current topic suddenly, rising to his knees. “I wonder if I can see your house from here! D’ya think that’s possible, ‘cause _I_ wanna see if that’s possible!”

He switches his camera’s view from front to back, the image of his face replaced by the scenic vista of the cozy beach town below, ridged by the peaceful waters of the Atlantic and Rehoboth Bay. She can see everything, from the gigantic pastry shaped facade atop the Big Donut, to the water tower clear on the other side of the peninsula. Beyond, lush green grasslands— dotted with clusters of small residences, humanity’s touch on the Earth— stretch as far into the horizon as far as a young dreamer can imagine. 

Connie picks up her phone from the bedpost she leaned it against and squints at the screen, trying to map out the precise scale of the countryside between them in her mind. “Hmm, probably not. I think my town’s pretty hidden by the surrounding hills.”

“No silly, not from right here, here! I meant, from up _here!”_

She yelps as the view of Beach City on her phone screen jolts in a burst of sudden, rapid movement, shrinking smaller and smaller as the seconds tick by. 

“Steven!! What are you—“

But internally, she finds the answer to this question before she can even finish asking it. Clearly, he jumped into the sky, so… so he’s using his floating ability. Even though she’s never seen him utilize it to leap to this extreme, it’s the only possibility that makes any ounce of sense. Her mouth falls agape at the picturesque view below, the town beginning to looking more and more like a blurred watercolor painting. Distantly, she wonders what it would feel like to be up there with him, her hands clutched tight in his, the wind dancing through her long hair. 

"Consarn it! Your house is too small to pick out. Hmm..."

 _Or even as Stevonnie, can they float too?_ she wonders. Maybe one day she can ask!

“Oh my gosh, this is just like I’m on the giant slingshot they used to have at Funland,” she says, averting her eyes as her best friend continues his ascent into the shimmering blue sky. She lets slip a slight grimace, finding the stark contrast between the movement on the screen and the still permanence of her bedroom dizzying the more she watches. “And I’m starting to think there’s a reason they shut that ride down…”

“Hey, my floating powers are _way_ better than The Comet,” he chirps playfully, having finally reached the apex of his leap. “Hah, maybe that means I should start my own attraction at Funland!”

“Doing what?” she says, unable to keep from laughing at the absurdity of the very concept. “Bubbling people on the tracks of the rollercoaster like the day we first met? I’m pretty confident that’d be a major health and safety violation.”

“Aww, but those are the best kinds of attractions!” 

She hears him grunt with minor exertion, and suddenly the aerial glimpse of the countryside she’s watching on her phone drops out of sight, replaced in an instant with a sweeping panorama of the boundless sky, the line of the horizon with the sea, the ground looming ominously hundreds of feet below. Rinse and repeat, over and over. Everything is spinning, she realizes in alarm, and there’s no end in sight. 

“Whoa-oH, it’s the Stevencoaster!” he cries in childish glee as he somersaults.

His lighthearted joy is so contagious she can’t stop the grin stretching wide across her face.

“Careful, you doofus, you’re gonna make me motion sick and I’m not even there,” she giggles breathlessly.

“Nooo! And the Stevencoaster makes everyone toss their cookies! Words truly cannot describe the culinary carnage left in its wake.”

She rolls her eyes in fondness at his antics, and sits up on her carpet. “No, but seriously,” she reaffirms, “that’s making me pretty dizzy.”

“Oh, sorry!”

Soon enough she watches him level out from his spin, his camera focusing for a moment on the ground a hundred feet below his sandaled feet before flipping to show his face once more, framed by wild dark curls. His irises are shimmering an unnatural pink she’s never seen before. It's enough of an unexpected shock that her smile fades, ever so slightly. 

“Better?” he says, beaming at her as he continues on his slow descent to Earth.

They’re still pink. And his pupils… She’s not just imagining it, right? She blinks heavily. 

“Y- yes, much.”

“Connie? What’s wrong?” he asks, landing upon the grass. His brow furrows. 

Even more notably, his eyes are just as normal and brown as they ever were. Connie balls her hand against her chin as she deliberates this. Hmm. Curiouser and curiouser. 

She shakes her head, silently mulling over how best to explain this. “Nothing, it’s just… I could’ve sworn your eyes were… different, for a second.”

“Different?” Steven‘s grin stretches so wide he looks like he’s about to burst at any moment. _“Eye_ don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Well, if you become my _pupil_ I could explain it to you,” she giggles.

“I’m listening,” he chimes eagerly.

“Okay, so honestly it could’ve just been a trick of the light, but… it’s almost like they flashed pink for a second. And your pupils were all funny, kind of, uh- slitted! Like a cat’s.”

_“Pink?”_

“Yeah.”

His face goes shockingly pale. “Connie, when was this?”

“Just a second ago,” she shrugs. “You were still floating.”

“Floating,” he repeats under his breath, seeming haunted by the very thought.

“Steven?” she calls, a sudden twist in her chest at the sight of his clear distress. “Steven, what’s wrong?”

“I, I—“ he stammers, unable to even meet her glance. “I’m really sorry, but I gotta go. I’ll text you later?”

“Uh- okay. Thanks for calling—“

He hangs up. 

“...back,” she finishes softly, shoulders sinking.

She sighs heavily, dropping her phone into her lap and sitting back against her bed frame. What did she say? What could be so scary about the idea of glowing pink eyes to make him react like that? Sure, it’s a bit strange, but it’s no more unusual than any of his other unique abilities. She only hopes she didn’t ruin his good mood all over again by bringing his attention to it.

Her mother knocks on the doorframe outside, signaling her presence.

“Come in,” she mutters glumly.

The door creaks open. Mom steps through, and leans against the wall with her arms crossed, glancing knowingly between her and the phone still clutched like a lifeline in her hands. 

“Are you still worried about that boy?” she asks. 

Connie can almost hear the capitalization inherent in her tone. 'That Boy.’ Even though she and Steven are just friends, she knows full well who her mother thinks he is to her. (Not that she’d complain if that were the case, but that’s simply not a thing with them, and really that’s fine, she’s fine, their status quo is comfortable how it is—)

“Yeah… I just got off the phone with him," she says, letting her head sink into the folds of the covers trailing off the side of her bed. "It sounds like he’s been through a lot lately.”

“Well, when a child spends all day fighting monsters instead of going to school like he’s supposed to, I can’t say I’m surprised,” her mom says under her breath.

“Mom, come on, this is serious!” 

“Yes, sorry, you’re right,” she says wearily, pressing her hand to her temple. “Just because I don’t understand it doesn’t mean that it’s fair of me to say.”

She turns away, and hugs her knees to her chest. Like a storm on a late summer day, her mind brims with so many things she wishes she could admit, so many things that need to be released if she wants to find any peace about this. But how to start? How can she make her mother understand?

“I’ve really been looking forward to this trip, y’know?" Connie says, feeling oh-so vulnerable sitting on the floor just like she always would as a young child, eyes glistening as she calls upon her mother for support. _"Really._ And I know we gotta leave tonight, but just knowing he’s hurting and I won’t be able to text him at all makes part of me wish… that I could stay here."

Unable to dam it up anymore, a few tears spill over to roll unbridled down her cheek. Her chest quivers uncontrollably as her face screws up and she begins to cry.

"Oh, honey," she breathes, moving to kneel on the floor next to her. She rests her hand on her upper back, gently kneading the stress out of her tense muscles.

"He's always been there for me when I needed someone to talk to, o-or somethin' to feel better," she sniffles, wiping the damp from her eyes and nose. "A- and then- the moment he needs _me,_ I can't be there for him at all, an' it's not fair!"

Upon seeing the trail of snot beginning to drip towards her upper lip, her mother grimaces. She reaches across her for the small square box perched atop her nightstand. "Tissue," she says firmly, passing her the box.  

She accepts the gift, pulling one out, and blows her nose hard. 

As she's dabbing away, cleaning up the evidence of her tears, Mom's fingers shift to comb through the length of her hair. She twirls through long dark strands and pulls them out of her face. "Even if I don't get all this magic stuff you're both dealing with," she begins, voice brimming with compassion, "believe me, I understand more than most what it feels like to be cut off from the people you love. So... I’ll change your phone plan to international, how’s that? That way, at the very least you’ll still be able to contact him.”

Her eyes light up. “Wow, really?? But that’s super expensive!”

“Says your father,” she scoffs with soft laughter. “We can afford it. And anyways, I’d hate to see you miserable the whole trip.”

“That’ll be perfect!” she says, throwing her arms tight around her mother. And although she can’t see her face, Connie knows from the reassuring solidness of their embrace that every bit of the love she has for her is returned in full. “Thanks, Mom,” she whispers, her anxious heart finally finding a glimmer of peace. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all!
> 
> The movie was so, so awesome, oh my god! I won't speak too much of it here in case any of you haven't gotten a chance to see it yet, but I will say that I am desperate to find a way to incorporate Spinel's backstory in the far-flung future of this AU if I still am in the mood to continue it once I finish with Crack the Paragon.
> 
> A few notes:
> 
> -One of the things Steven chose to not disclose in this conversation was the fact that his gem flipped. With what happened with Garnet the last time he talked about it still heavy on his mind, ya' can't blame the kid. ;-;
> 
> -And as suggested at the end of this chapter, we got some diamond eyes! Steven's eyes aren't pink all the time, though- just when he's accessing his Gem abilities.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a sideblog specifically for this fic, where I post full-res chapter art, WIPs, and other bits and bobs. [Do check it out if you're interested! :D](https://crack-the-paragon.tumblr.com) And feel free to send in any questions, theories, or speculation if you ever have any- my inbox is always open.
> 
> Thank you so much for your readership and enthusiasm! <3


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